


The Ties that Bind

by Wonderdyke



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BDSM, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark!Loki, Fix It Fic, Happy Ending, Intersex Jotun Loki, Jealous!Loki, Love Conquers All, M/M, Most Canon Deaths Don't Happen, Mpreg, Pining, Pseudo-Incest, Romantic!Loki, Rough Sex, Self Destructive!Loki, Sort Of, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Thorki Babies, You will love them, demisexual!Loki, eventually, mild internalised homophobia, romantic!Thor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-03-21 00:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13729629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderdyke/pseuds/Wonderdyke
Summary: Loki awoke with the dawn, leaving Thor amongst the tangled red satin of his bedsheets to return to his own chambers. He stood now, bare, as he looked at his own reflection.  Thor’s marks painted dark across his pale skin.  A glamour could hide it.  Or a healing spell remove them.  Yet Loki wanted neither, he was not ashamed as he thought he would be.  He cared for Thor, certainly whatever morality said of such things it was not evil if done in true affection.Loki gasped as he pressed into the fingerprint bruises on his hips, biting his lower lip to keep from crying out.  For a moment he allowed himself a fantasy, Thor binding his future with Loki’s.  They could have a proud Asgardian woman to bear their children and rule together for the next aeon.  Powerful together.  Unstoppable together.Too long he’d felt wrong in his own skin as if some monster was within prowling for release.  At first, he’d thought it was because Odin always loved Thor a bit more… but what need have he now for Odin’s love when the evidence of Thor’s affections burned against his flesh?For the first time in a long time, Loki felt a smile pull at his face not because it was expected of him but because he felt good.





	1. Óvitrligr Hjarta

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank the lovely SoulRebel for their wonderful beta and concrit! My work is better for their keen eye!
> 
> Questions, comments, concerns? Want to flame me or beg for more chapters? You can contact me via tumblr: www.tumblr.com/blog/wonderdyke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title means: Foolish Heart  
> Old Norse:  
> kunnigr - mage, conjuror

“Loki!” Thor roared, clasping him on the shoulder as he panted, bent in two over the Fell-Beast, dead at his feet.

“Brother,” he gasped, stretching to his full height.  Stumbling when Thor swept him up into a raucous embrace.

His eyes lingered on Thor’s lips for a moment too long.

“Come,” the God of Thunder said, setting him roughly to the barren ground of the outer moon.  “Let us go home and celebrate a successful hunt!”

Many hours later they lounged in Thor’s outer chambers, the Warrior’s Three and Lady Sif having long since stumbled out with or without a wench to tumble.  Loki’s was losing himself in madness, eyes lingering when Thor licked the ale foam from his lips, fingers itching to twist in the curls at his shoulder.

“Loki,” Thor said, eyes dark in the flickering light from the fireplace, golden light on already golden skin.

“Damn you,” he growled, lunging across the gap between his chair and the couch his brother reclined upon.  He tumbled into Thor’s lap and straddled his hips.

“Broth-”  

Loki claimed the warrior’s lips, warm and soft as he assaulted his mouth.  Cupping Thor’s face, he held firm while he took what he needed.  Loki demanded with his teeth to be given entrance, grinding down into his brother’s lap until Thor gasped and his tongue darted inside.  Thor tried to resist, fingers rough at the sharp flares of Loki’s hips, pushing and pulling as if uncertain whether he wanted this.

Then his brother’s will broke, and Thor was hauling Loki close, groaning into his mouth.  He rutted up against Loki’s backside in stuttering desperate hitches.

“Brother!” Thor gasped as Loki’s mouth slid away to bite down the column of his neck and over his shoulder.  “This is madness.  Have you bewitched me?”

Despite his words, the warrior’s shaky hands were pulling at his clothing and freeing patches of pale skin, which he tasted with a roll of his tongue.

“Bedroom,” Loki demanded, hands curling in Thor’s tunic.  He knew any servant could walk into the outer chamber with impunity and they would be discovered.  He very much didn’t want that to happen.

With a roar, the warrior hauled him up, never breaking their hold as Loki locked his ankles around Thor’s hips.

“This is madness,” Thor whispered again, even as he cradled his brother close.  Loki’s mouth found a sensitive spot at the base of Thor’s neck and worked his lips over it until it began to purple.  He had no fear of leaving marks, certainly, Thor had sported enough over the years that it would be of little consequence.

They tumbled to the bed, Loki using his leverage to roll his brother beneath him and grind their hips together roughly before his deft hands worked open the clasps and bared his muscled core to him.  Oh, he’d seen Thor nude before but never like this; never beneath him and at his mercy.

“Loki, we can’t–we shouldn’t–”

He growled in displeasure, magic making his voice more powerful.  “Tell me you don’t want this, brother,” he said as his pale hand skated between their bodies to palm Thor’s straining cock.  “Tell me to go and I shall.”

Their eyes met then, green clashing against stormy blue, in a challenge.  When Thor did not speak Loki smiled in victory.  Curling his fingers he raked his nails down Thor’s chest, leaving deep furrows on the skin.  The warrior gasped, arching into the touch before gripping Loki by the back of the neck and pulling him into a crushing kiss.

Loki managed to pull his own tunic off despite the other man attacking every span of revealed flesh, tossing it aside.  The way Thor touched him then, it was almost reverent until his brother pulled him down, rough hands dragging against his skin and lips bruising in their demand.

Lightning cracked through the clear night sky, thunder rolling even as Thor rolled their hips together.  Loki summoned a bit of magic, sending it skittering along their twined bodies.  Thor smiled at that, watching the dance of the green spell until it disappeared back into Loki’s skin. 

“Norns,” he sighed as he watched his own hand discover the lines of Loki’s body.  “You’re incredible.”

Before Loki could think of something witty to say, Thor was hauling down his leathers to expose him to the cool evening air, the sorcerer lifted and wriggled to aid in their removal.  He felt on fire as if every cell of his being was overloaded with magic not his own.

“I’ve never-” Thor croaked, skating kisses along his collarbone.  “With a man-”

“Nor I,” Loki said.  He didn’t add that he’d never known another’s touch whatsoever. He didn’t want Thor to look at him with foolish pity.  Still, he’d done this enough to himself that he knew the way of it; so much so that when he tugged Thor free of the last bit of his clothes and straddled once more across his hips the spell came to mind easily.

He spread the summoned oil over Thor’s cock, his brother hissing in pleasure before his long fingers worked against himself.  Loki was brief in his own preparation, wanting Thor’s violence, his roughness in all manner.  They were, after all, the most powerful of the Asgardian.  It was unlikely even Thor could harm him without the aid of his hammer.

Another quick spell had his hand clean as he leaned against the golden skin of his brother’s chest.  Blue eyes swept over him, over their bodies; a blush painted his sun-kissed cheek.

“What is it?” Loki said, cupping his jaw.

“Have you bewitched me,  _ kunnigr _ ?” Thor said even as they rolled once more and Loki was beneath.

“No more than you, I.”

Loki arched his hips and Thor was suddenly there, angled against his core so perfectly.

“Fuck me, brother,” Loki demanded.

Thor entered him in one swift, violent thrust.  Loki gasped against the intrusion, the mingling of pain and pleasure in his stomach that felt so right.

“More,” he growled, even as Thor held firm for him to relax.  “More.”

With a laugh his brother pinned his wrist to the bed in one large hand, the other arm snaking beneath his hips to support his weight as they moved together in a rough clash.  Thor’s mouth found his, tongues swirling together and teeth nipping at skin.

If Loki had been on fire before, he was now a star turning supernova, exploding with the sensation of Thor inside him.  He knew in that moment he was ruined, that he would never stand for another to touch him this way.

He wanted to tell Thor of his thoughts, each thrust within him making the words bubble up in his throat but if Thor thought his desires were madness then surely he would think the secret needs of his soul were vile.

“Let me touch you,” Loki said, voice betraying him as it hitched in need.  Thor did not seem to notice the crack in his speech, lost in the storm of his pleasure.  His brother freed his wrists as his golden head buried in the crook of Loki’s neck.  He focused on Thor’s hands, rough from wielding Mjolnir but gentle against his skin.  Loki pulled himself close into Thor’s arms, nails digging more furrows down his brother’s back as their pace quickened, moans turning broken as they both sought their release.

“Come for me,” Thor growled in his ear, hand fumbling between them to stroke his cock. 

Loki batted him away as Thor leaned up, spilling the pale conjurer over his lap and deepening the angle until Loki was weeping in the perfection of it.  “I will, brother,” he gasped, clinging to Thor’s powerful shoulders, “just like this.”

“Fuck,” he rumbled, teeth against Loki’s shoulder.

Loki’s motioned stuttered as a wave of pleasure swept through him, making him cry his brother’s name into the darkness.  He felt the pulses of his orgasm paint his Thor’s stomach even as Thor found his own release buried inside him.

They collapsed, sprawling on the sheets, Thor soaked in sweat.  Loki laid there for a long time, expecting his elder brother to send him away.  Truly, he should leave before he gave the man the pleasure, but his mutinous body wanted only to lay in Thor’s arms.

“How is it,” Thor said, coming back to himself, “that you never sweat?”

Loki squealed in surprise when Thor’s arms hauled him back until they were pressed together, back to chest. “How is it you always sweat?” he retorted, snuggling deeper into Thor’s embrace.  “I should go,” he added softly, a moment later.

Thor refused. “Our chambers have been attached since we were babes.  No one will see you return in the morning.  Stay.”

~

Loki awoke with the dawn, leaving Thor amongst the tangled red satin of his bedsheets to return to his own chambers.  A quick spell had the dried mess of their lovemaking cleaned from their skin and Thor’s bedding.  Thor stirred at the caress of Loki’s magic but did not awaken.

Loki stood now, bare, as he looked at his own reflection.  Thor’s marks painted dark across his pale skin.  A glamour could hide it.  Or a healing spell remove them.  Yet Loki wanted neither, he was not ashamed as he thought he would be.  He cared for Thor, certainly whatever  _ morality _ said of such things it was not evil if done in true affection.

Loki gasped as he pressed into the fingerprint bruises on his hips, biting his lower lip to keep from crying out.  Truly he wanted to walk naked into the throne room and show Odin what he’d done, his desire to flaunt the marks upon his flesh to the Allfather borne from the pure happiness their union had suffused in his body.  For a moment he allowed himself the fantasy of Thor binding his future with Loki’s.  They could have a proud Asgardian woman to bear their children and rule together for the next aeon.  Powerful together.  Unstoppable together.

Too long he’d felt wrong in his own skin as if some monster was within prowling for release.  At first, he’d thought it was because Odin always loved Thor a bit more… but what need have he now for Odin’s love when the evidence of Thor’s affections burned against his pale skin?

For the first time in a long time, Loki felt a smile pull at his face, not because it was expected of him, but because he felt  _ good _ .  

A knock at his chamber door had him dressing with the wave of a hand, his royal garments conjuring around his skin as easily as breathing.  “Enter.”

A young guard clasped his hand to his chest, giving a little salute before delivering his message, “Freya, Queen of Asgard requests the presence of her son, Loki Odinson in her private gardens.”

He wasted no time in going to her, sweeping her into a dramatic spin that left the woman giggling.  

“My son!” she breathed as he set her down.

“Yes, mother?” Loki grinned down into her face, no less lovely for all her years.

Her soft fingers skated over his jaw.  “And what has Loki of Asgard in such fine spirits?”

“Can I not be happy to see my own mother?” he skirted the question.

“You can, of course, you can.  It is so rare I see a true smile on your face, child.”  She took Loki’s arm, tucking her hand into the fold of it as they walked the gardens.

He was a romantic fool but he truly felt as if the world were brighter this morning.  Even the lingering looks the gardeners gave him could not dampen the warmth in his chest.

“...Are you listening?”

He shook himself back to the world. “I’m sorry, mother.  I truly do not know where my mind is.”

“Loki Odinson,” Frigga said, pinning him with a happy look, “are you in love?  Your father gave me such looks when we were courting.”

He swallowed hard.  He could not be in love with his brother… not like that.  “Only for my beautiful mother.”

“No wonder they call you silver-tongue, flatterer.  Well, if you are… I’m sure she’s a fine woman to paint such happiness on your face.”  

“And if they were not a woman?”

She laughed.  “Then I am sure he’s a fine man.”

Some tension loosened in his chest.  “Truly, mother, there is no one.  But were I to take a lover I imagine it would be a man.”

“Then I will wish it for you.  You deserve the happiness a companion can provide.” She turned suddenly, tugging him down onto one of the stone benches and holding his hands carefully.  “I would speak with you, son.”

“Are we not speaking, mother?”

“Loki,” she admonished gently.  For a moment he was lost in her face, the sun glittering on the blonde and silver of her hair.  The woman was radiant.  Perhaps someday he would have a daughter if she bore half his mother’s grace he would consider the girl blessed.  “Your father has chosen his heir.”

Loki’s eyebrow arched.  “And by my being here I imagine that heir is Thor.”  It should hurt, his years of jealousy with his brother should make that slight a bloody mess of his heart.  It did not.  Was it possible that a night in Thor’s arms had so changed him?  Could his mother be right?  Could he be in love?

“You are correct, my perceptive boy,” she said regretfully.

“Why are you sad, mother?  Thor is an excellent choice.  It is my hope that I can play some small part in the success of his reign.”  He was surprised to find he meant it.

“You are not disappointed?”

Loki shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips.  “I would’ve made a good king, but so will my brother.  I cannot have hate at such a joyous time as this.”

“Then go find him and tell him so,” Frigga said, kissing him on both cheeks.


	2. Grœnn hjá Awnd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title meaning: Green with Envy  
> Old Norse:  
> seidr - magic

Loki found Thor outside the throne room, a flustered consternation on his face that could only mean one thing: he’d just been to see the Allfather.

“Brother,” Loki said, drawing the man into a hug.  He looked up and down the corridor to make sure no one saw them and then shoved Thor into a nearby alcove behind the statue of their great-great-grandfather… or was it three greats?  

“Loki,” Thor gasped as his back hit the wall. 

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Loki purred against Thor’s neck as the Asgard’s large tanned hands flexed at his hips.  _ Always so indecisive, brother. _

“Did mother…?” Thor asked, his voice rough.

“Yes.” Loki did not want to speak of their mother.  Thinking of her was the only thing that made guilt curl in his gut overtaking his brother to bed.  “Now,” Loki leaned back, biting his lip as he grinned into Thor’s bemused face, “let me congratulate you properly.” 

He sunk to his knees, working free the toggles on his leathers.

“Still yourself, brother,” Thor growled, hand burying itself in Loki’s hair and dragging him back.  The pleasured groan that escaped Loki’s lips at the bite of pain was far too loud in the stone alcove but he could hardly bring himself to care.  He threw a barrier around them to keep the sounds from escaping.

Thor hauled him back up until they were standing eye to eye once more before releasing his brother with a little shove, though Loki did not miss the swelling in Thor’s trousers.

“You know,” Loki purred as Thor sulked, “for a man about to be king, you look remarkably put out.”

Thor huffed shooting Loki a withering look.  “Father speaks eternally of duty.  This time, of a wife.”

Loki laughed, the sound sharp against the stone.  Thor’s blue eyes darted nervously to the barrier but he did not move to leave.  “Did you think he would not?  To be king means to produce an heir.”

“I would have love.”

“Oh, brother,” Loki breathed, heart squeezing in his chest.  Words of affection perched on his lips but he swallowed them down.  “You will find love in your concubines, a wife is for a dynasty.”

Thor shot him a sharp look.  “Father found love.”

Loki scoffed at that.  “So he did.  But, perhaps you should stop comparing yourself to the Allfather.  Love in marriage is a rare thing.”

Thor regarded him for a long moment, blue eyes sinking into his soul and Loki felt laid bare.

“Brother,” Loki purred, pressing his body against Thor’s to distract him from his moribund conjecture. “I’ve so enjoyed our time together.”

Thor’s hand snatched Loki’s wrist as he reached out to twine his finger’s in Thor’s golden locks.  He couldn’t stifle the pout on his face.  “This is unwise,” Thor warned.

“So you tell me,” Loki snapped.  “Sweet Thor, the true moral compass of Asgard.”

Thor sighed, his hand dropping to palm at the small of Loki’s back.  “It is aberrant that I find such comfort in your embrace.”

Loki’s stomach flipped happily at his confession.  “Then take comfort from me, brother.  I will speak of it to none.”

“Loki,” Thor sighed, dragging the conjurer into the warmth of his arms, their bodies slotting in a tight hot press of muscles and arousal.  “There will be a time when this cannot continue.”

“So you say,” Loki breathed as he tilted his head.  He could feel Thor’s breath against his mouth. “We shall see.”

Loki claimed his brother’s lips then, the previous night's urgency gone as their tongues stirred together in a glorious dance.  Loki would not think too hard on the future or his feelings, whatever they might be.  For now, Thor was his, he would not be king for some time and in that time he could have this.  All was not lost.

Thor pulled away, his breath harsh in the small space.  “I believe,” he growled, “you mentioned something about congratulations?”

Loki was only too happy to sink to his knees.

~

Watching Sif and the Warrior’s Three lift yet another interminable toast to the good health of their new heir-apparent was insufferable but he drank anyways, languid in true happiness for his brother.  The feast hall was overflowing with revellers jostling for a chance to catch Thor’s eye, and Loki was all but forgotten at Thor’s right.  He tried to focus on those around him, even if they were boring in their drunken states.  Better this than where his mind wandered.  

Someday a woman would sit where Loki sat now, would be his queen in the long years of his rule.  Would bear his children.  

Jealousy like a hot knife tore through his stomach.

Loki’s eyes fluttered shut against the pain only to slam open again when Thor’s throaty growl filled his left ear.  “Come, brother, do not look so glum.  Do you not care to celebrate my future rule?”

Loki inclined his head, catching Thor’s eye despite the sudden warmth on his cheeks.  “I believe I showed my appreciation quite thoroughly already,  _ brother _ .  Did you not like your gift?”

Thor sucked in a breath, sitting back forcefully in the great wooden chair.  His eyes were full of lust when a young serving girl climbed into his lap, wiggling her heaving bosoms beneath the prince’s gaze.

Loki forced the smile to remain on his face even as jealousy dug its claws into his heart.

It was not soon enough when in the wee hours of the next morning the revelry faded enough that Thor slunk to his chambers.  Oh, Loki had no doubt that in but a few hours the feasting would continue, ebbing and flowing for a week to come.  Such was the nature of Asgarian festivities.  But for now, he followed his brother, desperate to be alone with him.

It was easy enough to slip between their chambers unseen as Thor bathed from the basin, scrubbing himself roughly and glorious in his nudity.  Loki’s body sang with lust.

“I should maim you for tonight,” Loki said, startling the warrior.

“Norns, Loki!” he hissed, spinning and covering himself before realising the foolishness in that and tossing the cloth aside.  “And why would you do that?”

“For all the wenches you had in your lap this evening.”

Thor laughed, prowling across the room until Loki could feel the heat of him radiating through his robes.  “Jealous, brother?  I enjoy the company of women, as you well know.  They are glorious things, soft and pliant.  We cannot all be like you.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Loki hissed.

Thor’s eyebrows twitched but the expression was gone too quickly for Loki to discern it.  “I mean only that it is well known you have not tumbled a woman.  I have it on good authority there is a bet concerning which of the court’s women or men will catch your fancy.”

Loki huffed, quelled only when Thor gently peeled apart his arms from where he’d been hugging himself.  His brother’s gentle hands slowly plucking apart the ties of his clothes to bare his pale skin.  “Perhaps I wish my dalliances to be more discerning.”

“Oh,” Thor teased, “my pompous brother, above the delights of the flesh.”

“Hardly,” Loki sneered even as he offered his lips to Thor, “since I cannot seem to deny myself yours.”

Loki groaned as Thor’s fingers buried in his hair, drawing him close to nuzzle at the column of his neck.  “Then you must have a taste for princes.”

Thor peeled apart his clothes, his hot lips dragging over Loki’s skin until he was standing there as bare as the day he was made Thor was on his knees, kissing of the flare of Loki’s hips when he freed the warrior’s golden locks to card his fingers through them.  “Will you taste of me, Thor?”

Thor rocked back, giving Loki’s cock an apprehensive look before turning away.  He was blushing.  “No, brother.  Do not ask it of me.  I do not delight in the flesh of men as you do.”

“Oh,” Loki breathed, preparing to summon his clothes back to him, “then why am I here?”

Thor stood and caught his wrist before he could cast the spell.  “I may not delight in the flesh of men,” Thor said gently. “But there is a madness in me that cries out for you.  Perhaps…” Thor sighed, “perhaps someday.  But not this one.”

“All right,” Loki breathed, allowing himself to be tugged back against Thor’s body, melding himself into the hard planes of the warrior’s muscles.  “Will you fuck me, brother?”

Thor growled, low and filthy in his ear before lifting him.  Loki happily wrapped his legs around Thor’s waist, letting himself be carried the few steps to the bed.  He revelled in the strength of the man’s body, his heart beating joyfully when Thor handled him roughly.

“Prepare yourself for me,” Thor thundered, nipping at his earlobe as he pinned Loki beneath him amongst the sheets.

“No,” Loki hissed, biting back at Thor’s neck.

Thor’s snarl was of pure frustration.  “Must you be contrary?  I do not wish to damage you.”

Loki laughed, the sound deep and rich.  “Then I suppose you must do it yourself.”

“I do not know the way of it.”  Thor’s frustrated huff was precious. 

“Then I will show you,” Loki said, hitching his hips up.  “If you wish to be inside me, dear prince, you will do this.”

He did not meet Loki’s gaze as he bit out sullenly, “No one speaks to me this way.”

Loki’s fingers tangled in Thor’s golden looks, forcing their lines of sight together with a rough yank.  “I am not one of your wenches.  I am Loki, prince of Asgard.”  His body was glowing as his magic rode him.  “We are equals in this, dearest brother.”

“Loki,” Thor sighed into his lips, kissing him softly until his magic settled.  “I did not mean to anger you.”

“Good,” Loki said, gripping the warrior’s calloused fingers and conjuring oil across them.  “Bury one within me.”

Thor moved to do as he was told, but his fingers hesitated at the pucker of Loki’s entrance.  “Do I just...?”

Loki sighed in frustration, grabbing Thor’s wrist and forcing a finger down into him. They both cried out in pleasure and for Loki, a bit of pain; his body had not yet recovered from Thor’s rough attentions the night before.

“Loki,” Thor whispered like a prayer against his side, breath hot against Loki’s cool skin, “you feel incredible.” Thor kissed gently at his skin, moving the single finger in and out before adding another a Loki’s urging. “Does this feel good?”

Loki could do little more than nod his head. Finally, he managed, “Crook your fingers-” Loki demonstrated with his own hand, “like this.”

When Thor stroked across the bundle of nerves within him he arched in the glorious frisson of pleasure.  

“What does  _ that _ feel like?” Thor breathed.

Loki laughed, rocking onto Thor fingers still buried within him. “Like magic. I could show you if you wished it.”

Thor blushed. It looked good on him. “Perhaps some other time.”

“As you will it, my lord.”

The possessive rumble from Thor’s throat had Loki gasping, his finger still working inside Loki’s channel.  He was embarrassed to admit the combination was turning him boneless.  That Thor liked when Loki showed deference, gave up control made his already aching cock throb.  And Loki, Norns knew, Loki liked it when Thor took control.  This could be something.  

“Does that pleasure you, brother?”

“Yes,” Loki gasped, his hands skidding over the warrior’s glorious muscles.  No wonder the maidens of the court admired him so.  

“Another,” Loki demanded and Thor obliged, slipping a finger beside the first two. The third was rougher, pain flaring sharply.  Thor must have felt the clench of his discomfort because he stilled.

“Have I hurt you?”

“I like pain, Thor,” he gritted out, staring at the gathered canopy of the prince’s bed.  All the red satin was truly garish.

“Do you?” Suddenly his brother’s golden head was swimming into his vision, blocking out the awful drapes.  There was something keen in his blue gaze, Loki suddenly remembering that Thor was not half as dull as Loki taunted him for being.

“When it is mixed with pleasure, yes.”

Thor’s mouth was suddenly on his.  Thor’s teeth were nipping at his lip drawing a sharp breath from Loki as his fingers rocked and stretched him once more.

“Fuck me, Thor.  I can wait no longer.”

“Thank the Norns.” Thor sighed.

“Are you this impatient with your women?” Loki quipped even as he spread his thighs to welcome the other man.

“No,” Thor said, pausing above him.  His tawny muscles stood out beautifully in the early morning sunlight.  He was truly a sight to behold.  “I spoke the truth when I said there was a derangement in my soul.  I find myself compelled to you.  I know not why.”

“Brother,” Loki breathed, cradling Thor as he tugged him down till the warrior was settled between his legs.  He bore the man’s weight gladly, the press making him feel safe.  “Does it matter?” He petted Thor’s golden hair, relishing when the man heaved a sigh and slipped a large hand beneath his head.  “Whatever the cravings of your soul, mine are well matched.  What matters the ‘why’ of it?”

“I suppose you are right.” Thor’s cock was nudging his thigh, unperturbed by the gentleness of their words.

Loki looped his legs over the sharp flare of Thor’s hips, lining his brother up with his entrance.

“You are a wanton, Loki.” Thor teased as he took himself in hand and slid deep into Loki’s waiting heat.  The delight of Thor within him once more was too great, he felt the prick of tears even as he guided Thor’s hand to his throat.

“Please,” Loki begged, Thor’s gentle thrusts stilling at the implication.

“You wish to put your life in my hands?”

_ It is already yours. _  “Yes, brother.”

Thor’s fingers tightened on his throat with a possessive growl, hips pistoning into Loki’s body.  Loki was shivering, shaking, falling apart as he climbed to the heights of his release, dangling on the edge as he waited for Thor’s pleasure.  

Thor’s teeth found purchase on his shoulder, marking his pale skin as their bodies moved together.  Loki was glowing, his magic churning the air around them.  The light from the sunrise was shuttered away behind the winds of his power and answering thunder rolled in the distance.   _ This is the ‘why’ of it, _ Loki thought,  _ my magic calls to yours; my heart… my heart calls to yours. _

Slowly, almost reverently, Thor lower himself, his weight shifting and cutting off Loki’s air as he pressed a delicate, chaste kiss to Loki’s lips.  Loki came, violent and rough, hissing Thor’s name through the press of Thor’s hand.  

Distantly he heard his brother scream his name even as air flooded back into his lungs.  As he came back to himself he realised Thor was above him, holding enough of his own weight not to crush Loki, and panting madly against his neck. 

Loki’s cheeks were damp as he dashed away the tears.  Such foolishness.

Thor was… Thor was laughing?

“Are you  _ mad _ ?” Loki hissed, ready to send his brother flying with a spell such was the indignity.

“Yes,” Thor chuckled, pressing a kiss to Loki’s cheek.  “Utterly mad, brother.  And you have made me so.”  Thor rolled, dragging Loki with him until he was pressed against Thor’s sweating chest.

“Ugh,” Loki grimaced, casting a quick spell that left them both clean, the sheet flying up before tucking itself around their intertwined bodies.  Thor kicked it off, flipping his part over to drape over Loki’s cooler body.

“Still you do not sweat.  I wonder if it is your magic, Loki.  Yours is a more useful  _ seidr _ than my own.  Useful but strange in some ways.”

Loki shrugged, melting into the touch as Thor absently played with his hair.  He was drifting in a haze of sleepiness when he heard the first of Thor’s soft snores, the sound lulling him to rest. 


	3. Á Tveir Sváss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Like Two Lovers  
> Old Norse:  
> kærr - beloved, darling  
> seidr - magic  
> kunnigr - mage, conjurer

“Come back,” Thor tugged him down to sprawl amongst the sheets once more, pinning Loki beneath his brother’s firm body.

“Thor,” Loki groaned, rolling his eyes in irritation.  “It will be expected that you return to the feast once more.  I would not have our absence be remarked upon.”

“None would dare.” The warrior grinned, cocksure as he bent his head to nip at Loki’s jaw.  “I would have you again, brother.  Your body is a delight.”

“Tonight,” Loki said, wriggling in his lover’s grasp.

“Am I so hideous in the morning that you must flee the moment your eyes open?” Thor said, rolling away to flop on his back.

The sorcerer chuckled at that, pressing a kiss to Thor’s bicep.  Despite the petulance, he had an endearing quality that Loki seemed powerless to resist.  “If you wish your ego stroked perhaps you should let the women of the court see to that?  I will not aid you.”

Thor huffed, frowning at Loki.  “Stay, brother.  Speak with me the way lovers do.”

And that was… something.  Even as Loki watched this new part of Thor - a part that seemed almost lonely - with wary eyes.  “What would you have of me?” Loki sighed, moving Thor’s arm so he could tuck himself against the warrior’s chest once more.

“So, have you truly never lain with a woman?” the warrior asked, though he did not look at Loki when he did so.

“How long have you been waiting to ask me that?” Loki chuckled.  When Thor did not answer he continued, “I have not.”

“Then how do you know you do not enjoy it?  I have always found it pleasurable.”

Loki gave an annoyed sigh.  “I imagine in the same way you know you do not want a cock inside you, my fool-headed brother.”

At Thor’s look of disgust, Loki was cackling with laughter.

When he was finally able to catch his breath, having broken into laughter several more times at Thor’s sullen expression, Loki asked, “Have you _never_ been with a man before? Present company excluded.”

“Once,” Thor confessed.  “Fandral convinced me in a drunken state to let him place his mouth upon me.  He was efficient.”

“Efficient?” Loki asked with an arched brow.  Oh, if he had but known that Fandral enjoyed the company of men.  But no, Loki truly did not wish to suffer another’s touch.  To say that he loved men would be inaccurate.  It seemed his arousal was but for one man and no other.

“Well, he was good at it.  I suppose he would know how to make it feel good being possessed of one.”

“But?”

“But it was unusual… the stubble of his cheek, the hardness of his lips… Very unwomanly.”

“Perhaps because Fandral is a man?” Loki teased.

Thor groaned in humiliation, rolling and burying his face once more in Loki’s neck.  “I do not know why I ask you to stay when you delight in my embarrassment.”

Loki trailed his fingers through Thor’s hair, down the line of his spine before cupping his arse, revelling in the ability to just touch him.  “And me?  Was I efficient?”

Thor moaned, arching into Loki’s touch in a way that made him feel unduly powerful.  “You grow no hair upon your chin.  Have you ever thought upon it?” Thor said as his hands explored, knuckles gentle in their brush against his skin.

“Some Asgardians do not.”

“Women and the weak.  Not one of your blood.”

“Perhaps another peculiarity of my magic.  Betimes it happens.”  Loki sighed, batting Thor’s hand away.  “You did not answer my question.”

The warrior smiled softly.  “You are a temptation to every part of me.  Your lips...” Thor eyes bore into him their eyes meeting as the warrior stroked a battle-hardened thumb over his lower lip, “Norns, if you but knew what you do to me.”

Loki pushed his brother off, straddling the man’s hips as he grinned down in victory.  “Then tell me.”

“I should not,” Thor said, sitting up on his elbow and giving Loki a curious look.

“Why?”

Thor reached for him, cupping Loki’s jaw and brushing that thumb over his lip once more.  Loki’s keen eyes watched Thor’s throat work a swallow, the bob of his apple dipping like a drunkard.  “You will unmake me, Loki Odinson.”

“Are you so easily unmade, Thor Odinson?”  Loki nipped at Thor’s thumb.  The warrior did not retreat, rather advanced, pressing the digit into Loki’s welcoming mouth.

“Perhaps,” Thor sighed, “in your hands, perhaps.”

~

Feasting had always been tedious, that night more than many.  He had wished to remain in the luxury of Thor’s arms all day, glutton that he was for the gentle man who’d awoken beside him in the morning.  Even buried in his book of spells and tucked into a pile of low cushions, learning an incantation to bring a man back to fullness after his pleasure, could not drive the jealousy from his heart.  It was the sixth woman Thor had invited into his lap, no doubt his brother was greatly amused.

“Loki Odinson,” Fandral said, standing above him.  “Why so dull?  Will you not dance?  There are ladies enough here to tempt even the most discerning of princes.”  

The man did cut a delightful figure.  What would Thor say to another playing his game?  Oh.  He was going to have fun.  “And if dancing with women were not this prince’s preference?”

Fandral did blush prettily, his creamy skin flushing violently at the insinuation.  “Then I am sure there are warriors and young men that would be honoured to have your hand for a dance.”

Loki vanished the tome, knowing it would return to his chambers, before offering his hand to Fandral.  The warrior grasped it, helping him to his feet easily.  It was the matter of stepping but a half measure into the circle of Fandral’s arms, tilting his head and offering the man a sweet smile.  “And would you, Fandral Hermodson, ask such a thing of a prince?”

Fandral returned his smile warmly.  Stepping back, he gave a deep courtly bow.  “Prince Loki, would you favour me with a dance?”

“My pleasure.”

Fandral swept him along through many songs.  The warrior led with grace as he played court to Loki.  It was nice.  That Thor kept shooting dark looks to them whenever Loki’s gaze strayed his way, well, all the better.  And if, when Fandral handed him yet another glass of mead, leaning in to whisper something about a trick they’d once played on Heimdall, Loki laughed a little harder - leaned a little closer, then certainly Thor deserved it.  The answer rumble of thunder was enough to make his smile a true one.

The storm god swept from the hall, the great doors slamming behind him.

“I wonder what has upset Thor?” Fandral mused, a frown drawn between his brow.

“Perhaps I should see to him...” Loki said, eager to be free of his would-be paramour since his task was accomplished.

“May I walk you?” Fandral asked, offering his arm.

Loki favoured him with a gentle smile when he shook his head.  Truly, he did not want to upset his brother’s friend.  “I will see myself.”

“Then I thank you for your company, Prince Loki.” He dropped a kiss to the back of Loki’s hand before bidding him farewell.

Loki had barely stepped into his chambers when a strong body had him shoved up against the wall.

“Would you tempt me, brother?  Let another touch you when I could not?”

Loki gasped at the heat of Thor pressing against him, cock hard and jutting against his backside.  “Fuck,” he cried out when his brother yanked him back roughly by the hair.  Loki wrapped a spell around him to strengthen the blow when he kicked off the stone walls, sending his elder brother sprawling across the floor.  “No more than you did to I,” he hissed even as he began to drag his clothes off.

Thor was back on him in an instant, lifting him easily as Loki attacked his mouth, fingers tangling in golden locks and pulling.  Thor’s head rocked back, away from the shelter of Loki’s lips as air rushed out of him.

“Were you trying to make me jealous?” Loki growled against Thor’s jaw before baring skin at his shoulder and biting.  Thor’s yelp of pain was glorious.

“Yes,” Thor confessed as Loki tears at his tunic.

“Bed,” Loki demanded.

“Mine or yours?”

“Here.” A gasp broke loose from Loki’s throat when the warrior _tossed_ him into the pile of green silk and white furs.  Loki, too busy tearing off his clothes, let an insult die on his lips.  He was naked before his brother divested himself of his own garments.  

When Thor joined him, his large hand was at Loki’s throat as he raged against Loki’s skin; Thor holding the thread of his own control, barely.  “I want to hurt you.”

“Yes,” Loki breathed, closing his eyes against the brief squeeze at his neck before Thor flipped him onto his belly.

“You will stop me if it is too much.”

“Yes, my lord,” Loki said with a wicked grin, not bothering to open his eyes even as Thor released a primal roar.

“Prepare yourself, _kunnigr_ , or I will have you without.”

Loki did, slicking it over Thor’s cock but not himself.  Pushing up onto his hands and knees he offered himself to Thor’s violent nature.  “I am yours, brother.”

When Thor claimed him it was not as painful as he expected, days of taking his brother within him making the passage easier.  Still, he cried out in the moment, a keen of pain and pleasure fleeing from him.  Thor did not pause; he took Loki with all the rough ferocity that Loki craved.  Fingers pressed fresh bruises over old, teeth dragged against his pale shoulders to mark and claim, hips pistoning in desperate possession.

 _I’m yours. I’m yours._ Loki chanted in his mind, knowing the words Thor needed to hear but unable to speak them.  Loki scrabbled against the sheets as pleasure danced along his skin with his brother’s touch.  

At some point his limbs gave out, the trembling build of a release, so vast that he could not conceive the edges of it, building within him until he felt like a waterskien overfull; as if the vessel of his body could not hold the intensity of it within him.

And he knew there was magic around them, as there always was when they joined their bodies.  But that time it was wild, like the ancient _seidr_ that created the universe.  There was so much power around them and curling through them that he wondered at it, for surely Thor didn’t have so much within him?  Loki knew it was far beyond his own.

When Thor hauled him up, held him suspended above the sheets with only his strength the angle shifted and deepened, the bubble that held Loki back shattered.  He spilt as Thor did, and the palace shook with thunder.

~

When he awoke, it was in Thor’s bed and Thor’s arms; his first thought, _You have unmade me, Thor Odinson._  It hurt to find that it was true.

Thor held him like one might a child, Loki tangled in his lap, cradled softly.  When he opened his green eyes, Thor’s blue ones were filled with worry.

“Loki,” Thor breathed against his cheek, “have I harmed you?”

He could not find his words but he managed to shake his head, curling deeper into Thor’s warmth. _Thor is right, I am always too cold._

Outside rain fell in heavy sheets, a storm shaking the very stone.  “It’s raining,” Loki said.

“Since our joining, yes,”  Thor said this as if it was unremarkable, more interested in giving Loki soothing touches; but Thor had never summoned a storm either by accident or intent, only the echoes of one.

When Loki tilted his head to regard the strained lines of the warrior’s face, his brother pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.  

“You have called your magic, _kærr_.”

And so he had, unbidden.  Loki was so distracted by the sudden curl of his power, blooming from his chest and reaching out, beseeching for Thor that he nearly missed the endearment.  His heart swelled in his chest, the green and gold mist of his raw _seidr_ pulsing in time with its rhythm.  

When the slowly shifting mist met Thor’s skin it lit from within with the blue-white of lightning, sparks dancing along his flesh towards the cloud of Loki’s magic around him.  And where they touched a new kind of power seemed to appear, purple and rolling like the front of a great storm.

“What is this?” Thor asked even as they both watched, transfixed.

“Our magic calls to each other.”

The power was forming off them in waves, gathering in the room.  Loki grasped it, closing his physical eyes and opening his awareness to Yggdrasil.  It was as if he could feel the turning of the Nine Realms, as if he could see as Heimdall saw but without the use of his foci.  The universe was laid bare before him, and not just their universe but all of them echoing out further and further.

“Loki,” Thor’s voice filled his senses, not just sound but touch and taste - all his senses; as he were a part of the man that held him and that man was a part of him.

Loki’s eyes flew open, a sudden dizzying sensation tilting the world around him. His magic snapped away, swiftly returning to him as if it was never there.

He felt weak after his vision and was grateful for Thor’s strong embrace.

In the aftermath of their violent coupling, Thor was sweet and attentive, fingers drawing nonsense patterns over Loki’s skin.  He was content to be held, to be touched, the casual affection so foreign to his person. But his mind would not be silent. It begged answers to questions Loki was unwilling to ask.

And yet he did as if compelled by some spell, “Do I make you happy?”

“More than I can comprehend.” And Loki knew it was a true answer.

“But you will put me, put this, aside for a Queen?”

Thor sighed. “I will have to. I will not dishonour a good woman as we have dishonoured ourselves.”

Loki gaped, pain burning in his chest at his brother’s words.

Seeing Loki’s expression Thor stammered, “I do not mean that loving you is a disgrace.  Only the falsehoods we will have to say. I am not you, silver-tongue. Lies do not come so easily to my lips. But for this? I would commit a great many evils, it frightens me.”

“But you will not keep me?”

“Loki.” Thor drew him close before he could be certain that there were tears filling his blue eyes.  “I will always be yours, in heart if not in deed.”

“Y–you love me?”

Thor cupped his face, blue eyes shining with a pure sort of happiness that Loki felt unworthy of.  Thor _was_ crying. “Yes, _kærr._ I love you.”

Loki tucked his head back under Thor’s chin, hiding his own tears. “You’re an idiot.”

Thor chuckled. “And you can always be relied upon to remind me.  Please, brother, can we not speak of marriage? There is nothing to be done of my duty, were it not mine it would be yours. Remarking upon it will only dash our hearts continually upon the rocks of a future despair.”

“Alright, I concede.” Loki sighed.  After a time he added, “Do you not wish me to return your affections?”

Thor kissed him on the cheek, the great buffoon with his romantic heart. “I know you love me, Loki. I saw it in your eyes when we first kissed. I knew it would be my undoing.”

Loki could not meet his gaze then.

“But it would do my heart good to hear it, if you wish to say the words.”

“Foolish prince,” Loki bemoaned with fondness but said no more.

“See? When you say that I hear, ‘I love you’.”


	4. Sleppa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Escape  
> brodir - brother  
> kærr - darling, beloved  
> Bifask - Quake  
> Draumr - Dream  
> Sudrœn Grind - Southern Gates  
> seidr - magic  
> konungr - king  
> Iak elska ér - I love you

“Again,” Loki declared as he panted, the two warriors facing off against him.  The spell was… frustrating him.  He could phase across open space.  He could step through solid walls when he was calm but to do it when adrenaline was pumping through his veins was still beyond his grasp. Loki understood the principle but it was painfully elusive.

_ Emphasis on the painful, _ Loki thought as he slammed into the wall once more.  “Norns!” he growled.

“That looks as if it hurts,  _ brodír _ .”

Thor’s voice sent a shiver up his spine.  Three days and the princeling had ignored him and now he  _ teased _ .  Of course, Loki had refused to return to the feast.  His heart had been a raw mess in the wake of his brother’s revelations.  Still, he had slipped into the elder prince’s chambers each night only to find it empty.  “Leave us,” Loki ordered the men as he dusted himself off, standing to face Thor Odinson.

Thor looked a mess as if he hadn’t slept.  Loki was sure he looked little better.

“Thor,” Loki breathed, anger forgotten at the evidence of the man’s suffering.  He took a half step towards his brother, intent on kissing him but remembered himself and shifted it to an  _ acceptable  _ fraternal hug at the last moment.

Thor froze in his arms, rigid for a breath before melting into the embrace.  “I would hold you in my arms properly,  _ kærr.” _

Thor’s words made a longing bloom and twist in his gut.  He’d craved his brother’s touch, three days without was making him crazed with lust and… something more.

“And I would kiss you properly,” Loki whispered back before stepping away to an acceptable distance.

“Will you take the air with me, Loki?”

He nodded, falling into step next to his brother like he’d done a thousand times.  Yet, now, it felt as if the air between them was charged.  Every time their shoulders touched or their knuckles brushed Loki felt like he would fly away from himself.

“I was considering going on a hunting trip.” Thor mused.

“You’re  _ leaving _ ?” Loki hissed, tilting his head towards his brother and his lips curled in anger.  Thor’s chuckled only served to enrage him further.

“I thought you might join me, brother.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _  “When?”

“As soon as you pack, all is prepared.”

If Loki had ever learned the way of levitation he would have flown to his chambers.  As it was, he merely walked as fast as possible to draw no attention from the ever watchful eyes of the palace staff.  He threw clothes into his saddlebags as quickly as he could, trying to remember what else he might require.

“I doubt you will need so many clothes.”  Thor’s voice was full of promise, his face dark with lust where he leaned in the doorway between their chambers; left open now more than it had since they were children together and Loki sought shelter in his arms from the nightmares his nascent magic created.

Loki jumped into his grasp, Thor catching him easily as they kissed for the first time in days, drowning in each other’s touch.

“Enough!” Thor pulled back roughly, putting Loki on his feet.  “If we do not stop now, than I never shall and you cannot go walking through the palace halls at midday looking well fucked.”

Loki’s smile was devilish as he returned to his bags.  “I suppose we cannot have that.”

“I have brought you something.”

“Oh?” Loki regarded him with interest, more so when Thor disappeared into his room giving Loki a perfect view of his backside.  He returned with a package wrapped in simple brown paper and twine.

“What’s this?” he said even as he opened it.  The clothes within were of a simple but good quality and a plain cloak.

“We must take the main road for many hours, I would not have our passage remarked upon.  I thought, perhaps, once we left the city we might change and no longer be the princes of the Asgard but two men travelling together.”

“Yes,” Loki breathed, holding the clothes to his chest.  To be able to touch, to hold without worry of duty or the expectations of others.   _ Norns _ he did not realise how much he needed it until Thor spoke the words. “Yes.”

“Loki,” Thor said softly when Loki turned to face him Thor was smiling with such open joy it broke his heart just a little, knowing that he’d have to let him go.  Maybe.  Someday.

Thor stepped close, lifting Loki’s pale hand to his lips and pressing a kiss there.  “I will meet you with the horses.”

Loki nodded, watching Thor go before hurrying to finish his preparations.

As they nudged their mounts, Bifask and Draumr, along the great highway Loki felt a lightness fill him.  He smiled so much his face began to ache yet he could not seem to stop.  He turned his face into the sunlight, basking in its warmth as their steeds trotted down the cobblestones.

“ _ Norns, _ but I would kiss you,” Thor breathed, the ache of longing clear in his voice.

“You could have had my lips for the three days past, now you must wait until we are beyond the _ Sudrœn Grind _ .”

Thor’s impatient growl only made Loki’s smile deepen.  “I should question my affections,   _ kærr,  _ that you find my discomfort amusing.”

“Only when it is your own doing.  Will you tell me why you have not sought your own bed for three nights?”

Loki did not think the question too difficult, yet the silence stretched between them for so long that he turned his face from the sun to seek out his brother.  Thor remained at his side but was chewing his lip in anxiety.

“Thor?”

The warrior shook himself, as if from a trance before turning a blinding, if entirely false, smile to Loki.  “I was planning for this.  There was much to be done.”

“Thor…” 

“Let it be, Loki.  We can speak hard truths later, let it be kind falsehoods for now.”

Loki’s chest tightened but he did not push.  All was silent between them until they passed the  _ Sudrœn Grind _ where, beyond the sight of the watchtowers, Thor led their horses off the road to drink from the river.

Loki was not surprised to feel his brother step behind him, pressing their bodies together. Perching his golden head on Loki’s shoulder, they watched the light dance along the water.

“When did you fall in love with me?” Loki asked softly, sinking into the heat of Thor’s arms.

“It was long ago, longer than I should admit.”

“Before I kissed you?”

“Very much so.”

“How… How did I not know?”

Thor chuckled, pressing his smiling face into the crook of Loki’s neck. “You are not the master of all secrets,  _ kærr.” _

“Clearly not,” Loki huffed but there was no true heat to it. “Why did you not say?”

“We are  _ brothers,  _ Loki. It is… aberrant.”

“I am no woman that you can get a child on. Seems to me the ancient law forbidding such things is for the sake of the children of such unions.”

Loki could feel Thor’s puff of laughter against his neck. “Sometimes I think the love you feel for me is tangled in your joy of flaunting propriety.”  

They stood there for a long time, letting the horses graze upon the sweet grasses of the bank as they revelled in the newfound freedom to touch.

“If I were not your brother?” Loki asked.

“But you are.”

“Were I not?”

Thor sighed in frustration.  “Must you always pick at a thing and expose its innards? Why can this not be enough?  Will you never be satisfied?”

Loki pulled away, casting a sharp glance at his golden-haired brother.  “Satisfaction is not in my nature.  Especially in regards to you.”

Thor held out his hand as he said, “Loki, come here.”

“Answer the question.”

Thor roared, his fist colliding with the trunk of a nearby tree.  Had he infused the punch with his  _ seidr  _ the trunk would have blown apart easily, despite its ancient size.  As he did not he merely caused himself pain.  

Loki watched his brother’s tantrum with apathy, too used to the man’s intemperate nature; one they shared.

“What would you have me say?” Thor growled, clutching his hand.

“The truth.” 

Thor snapped, “The truth for the God of Lies?  Fine.  The truth is I would remake the realms if it meant I could have you as mine _. _  I would rend my flesh from my bone so that I could create a cosmos in which you could rule with me _. _  To be  _ konungr _ side by side, the strongest of the Asgard and the wisest.  For all my power, for all yours,” he stumbled forward, dragging Loki into his arms as he began to tremble, “it is a fantasy.  There is no path to happiness for us.”

“Thor…” Loki breathed past the tightness in his chest.

“Hush… Please, Loki.  I am sorry.”  Thor heaved a heavy breath, burying his face in Loki’s hair as his anger fled as quickly as it had come.  “Were we not of the same blood I would take you for my king, consequences be damned.  Perhaps Sif would give us lovely babes…”

Loki snorted at that. Sif?  A mother to their children?  Now that was less likely than Loki marrying Thor.

“But you  _ are _ blood of my blood.” Thor was caressing him, smoothing back his dark locks and looking upon him as if he were the most precious thing in all the Realms.  “It is forbidden.”

Loki nodded, angry at himself for darkening their moods.

Thor pressed a kiss to Loki’s forehead, stroking along his cheek.  “When did you last sleep, Loki?”

“The last time I was in your arms.”

“As did I.  Perhaps we should not speak of such things in this state?”

“Perhaps.” Loki agreed.

He went easily when Thor tugged him down to lay on the thick carpet of pine needles.  Reclining in Thor’s embrace, he suddenly felt the exhaustion, eyes heavy as they rested the horses.  “ _ Iak elska ér _ ,” Thor said in the old tongue as he carded his battle-rough hands through Loki’s dark locks.

Loki snickered sadly, “Foolish prince.”

~

Loki rode the way up the mountain in Thor’s embrace, easily convinced once they were no longer the sons of Odin in their garb but merely men, to share a saddle.  Almost immediately Loki drifted off, sleep and wakefulness coming in snatches and punctuated by Thor’s soft humming.  His brother wrapped his woolen cloak around them both when he began to shiver, not the red one but a simple undyed grey, and for the first time in days Loki felt truly warm.

When he awoke a final time Thor was carrying him, as one might a bride, into a cabin.  It was cold within and he trembled the moment Thor laid him out on the sumptuous bed.  His brother was gentle not to jostle him as he tugged off his boots.  

The furnishing was far too much for a simple hunting lodge.  But then, it wasn’t a simple hunting lodge, it was a royal one and by the abundance of red satin, one his brother frequented.  Utterly ridiculous that the garish colour now made him feel welcome, safe.

Loki watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Thor started a fire without magic.  He’d never seen it done though he supposed his brother would know the way of it.  The man had a love of the wilderness, one Loki had never shared and often went on long hunting trips.

Once the fire was crackling happily Thor left, no doubt believing Loki asleep, and tended to the horses.  He returned sometime later with the saddlebags, setting them in the corner before coming to Loki’s side, crouching at the edge of the bed.

Loki gave Thor a sleepy smile, stretching the hours slumped in the saddle away.

“Are you hungry,  _ kærr?” _ Thor asks gently, cupping his face and angling it until Loki could see his brother’s soft beseeching look.

“No _. _ ”

Thor smiled softly, petting him.  “You have hardly eaten.”

Loki reached out, tangling his pale fingers amid Thor’s darker ones, tugging gently as he rolled towards the wall.  He immediately regretted it, the cold of the night’s mountain air pouring in from the window and making him shiver.  “I will eat in the morning.  Come warm me, brother.”

Thor used their twined hands to drag him back, Loki letting out a surprised yelp.  “Sleep closer to the fire, my heart.”

Loki nodded in agreement, snuggling into the soft bedding as Thor stripped to his smalls.

The warrior leapt over him easily, pulling thick blankets from a pile at the foot of the bed and spreading them more heavily over Loki until it felt like a gentle hug.

Thor murmured in his ear making heat coil low in Loki’s belly, “Can I undress you?”

“Please,” he breathed.

Thor was gentle with him, the sadness of the day giving way to tenderness.  Loki relished it as much as the violence, perhaps more.  If he wished it, there were those that could be paid to sate his desire for pain; but there were none who could give him such open affection, sweet reverence, and tenderness as Thor gave him now.

Loki basked as Thor took his time peeling off his travelling clothes, dropping each garment over the side of the bed before going to the next until they were pressed together skin to skin save for their smalls.

“Aren’t you missing something, brother?” Loki teased, wiggling his bottom against Thor’s quickly hardening cock.

Thor’s hands gripped his hips, holding him still with a delightful little bite of pain.  “A moment ago you were nearly asleep.”

“I am no longer.”

“You’re a wanton.” Thor groaned.

“And you so enjoy it.”

Thor spread soft, chaste kisses along his shoulders, one hand cupping his scalp before dragging through the hair.  Loki’s eyes were mostly closed before he realised Thor was lulling him to sleep.

“I will have my revenge,” Loki growled weakly, eyes fluttering closed once more.

He drifted off to Thor’s gentle laughter.


	5. Fródleikr Inni

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Magic Within  
> Old Norse:  
> kærr - my darling  
> kunnigr - conjurer  
> Pórsdagr - Thursday/ Thor's Day  
> Ódinsdagr - Wednesday/ Odin's Day  
> Hof til Heven - Temple of Heven  
> seidr - magic

“Come on, Loki!” Thor shouted as he scrabbled up the rock face, sending pebbles skittering in his wake.

“It isn’t fair!” Loki grumbled even as he picked a gentler way up the slope.  Thor may not mind a misstep that would send him sliding back down a stone’s throw but Loki preferred to continue his climb in an upward direction.  “Of the two of us, you can fly!”

“Do you see me flying,  _ kærr?” _

Loki had nothing to say to that.  As a child he would’ve stuck out his tongue, as an adult he was above such things.  He made a rude gesture.

Thor laughed, the sound hearty and warm and tugging a smile to Loki’s lips though he tried to maintain his scowl. It seemed today they had put serious conversations behind them, Loki was grateful for it.  It was too easy to fall into the habit of bickering, too easy to snipe at each other. He wanted this easy banter, Thor’s easy manner. Thor, it seemed, sensed this in him or was fulfilling some need of his own heart.  They’d ridden together atop Bifask as far as the trail would allow before it narrowed. They’d left Thor’s mount below tied to a tree and grazing happily.

Without the magical steed’s enhanced speed the trek was slower now, all the more so because neither could resist the urge to touch.  

Loki finally reached Thor where he was crouched atop a massive boulder that had obliterated the path.  The warrior offered his hand.

“I am capable.” Loki groused.

“I know, my heart, more than capable.  Is it wrong that I like to touch you?”

Loki didn’t have an answer for that so he placed his hand in Thor’s.  His lover hauled him atop the rock, pulling him close and kissing him until they were both breathless.

“I’m addicted to your taste,” Thor groaned as he licked his way up Loki’s throat.

He melted into the sensation, the scrape of Thor’s new growth of beard making the touch sharper.  He was suddenly, achingly hard.

Thor chuckled, nipping at his skin. “Wanton.”

“You make me so.”

“I’m going to have you right here.”

Loki’s choked noise of pleasure was evidently all the response Thor needed, taking him to the ground and pinning him face down to the moss covered stone.

Their coupling was quick and desperate, clothes barely shifted before Thor was pressing into him with only the barest of preparation; he hardly needed any after having been taken twice already.  The warrior slammed into him in long strokes, hitching at the end so it felt like his lover was trying to fuck  _ through him _ rather than into him.  

Oh, it was perfect.  

“Mine,” Thor hissed into his ear before sinking his teeth into Loki’s neck.

He gasped at the pleasure of Thor’s words, at the idea of being marked as his.  “Norns, yes,” Loki sighed, “I am yours. All of me.”

“Loki,” Thor panted, wrecked, as he kept up the slow inexorable pace.  “I love you.”

“Foolish prince.” Loki answered.

It wasn’t long before they both reached their end in a gasping mess, Thor clinging to him as if he might fly away.  

“How is it,” Thor asked some indeterminable time later, “that you are not a mess with my seed?”

“Spell.” Loki grunted, the sun warming his back and the after effects of his release making him languid.  He wondered how Thor could speak after sex when it left him so utterly wrecked.

“Clever  _ kunnigr.   _ By the Norns you are a prize!”

Thor’s praise only stoked the happy warmth in his chest as he pillowed his head on his arms.  

“How is it any of your lovers ever let you go?  They must have been strong willed indeed not to declare the pleasure of having you from the mouths of the criers.”

Loki sighed happily as Thor rested his warm hand on his hip.  Perhaps it was that comfortable langor that made him admit, “I’ve never had another.”

“What?”

Thor’s surprise made him tense, reminding him that he never intended to tell his brother that.  Loki buried his face in his arms, unwilling to see disgust or, worse, pity on his golden features.  Pitiable enough for a woman to not understand her own pleasure but considered a sweet gift by some to help them find it.  For a man? There was a reason that there were houses of pleasure that catered to men so that they might know the way of coupling.  He’d considered it but the idea of being touched… even now it made him shivery and sick.

“Loki…” Thor said, voice too soft.  

Loki wanted to curl into himself and wither away.

“ _ Kærr _ , will you not look at me?”

Loki shook his head as Thor slid closer, draping his body over his lover’s in a protective shell.  It was that gesture of affection that made Loki confess the rest. “I could never stand to be touched, even sometimes by mother.  The only person I ever… it’s you Thor. It has always been you alone.”

“So our first night?”

“I was virginal.  Yes.”

The quiet reverence in Thor’s voice nearly unmade him.  “Why did you not say, my heart? I would have been more gentle.”

Loki laughed at that, the sound was cruel even to his own ears.  “I did not want your tenderness. I always wanted your violence, makes me feel… free.  I learned the pleasure of your gentleness later.”

Loki looked at his brother and Thor cupped his chin tenderly, a thumb skating along his cheekbone.  “I wonder what it is inside you that makes you cleave to darkness, my love.” Thor sighed and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before Loki could respond.  “Still, I cannot say that your desire for pain does not match my desire to give it. I always restrained myself before, never losing myself fully even in the heights of passion.  With you I feel no such compunction. It feels as if you were made for me; like the old stories of a soul broke in twain only to be drawn ineluctably towards its mate. I have always felt like less myself in your absence, even before we became one.”

“And they call me silver-tongue,” Loki mocked but did not mean it.

“We have only known each other this way less than a week.  It was but  _ Pórsdagr _ when I took you to my bed and today is  _ Ódinsdagr. _ ”

“It feels longer.”

“Like it was always meant to be thus.”  Thor’s smile was soft but true. “Come love, we are near the peak.  If you can stand?” He quirked a golden eyebrow in a gentle tease but Loki let it goad him to his feet as he tugged his clothes back in place.

“Race me, brother?” Loki hissed before dashing up the stairs cut into the side of the mountain without waiting for a response.  Behind him he heard Thor cackle. He tossed a ball of magic behind, more sparking light than danger and Thor’s surprised grunt had him laughing as he turned the corner of the ancient stair, picking his way among boulders and slippery moss.

Thor was gaining, he could hear the puff of the Asgardian’s heavy breath.  That Thor did not call Mjolnir so that he might sail ahead only made Loki more determined to win.  He shot another spell over his shoulder, infusing his  _ seidr _ into his legs to give him a burst of speed as he took the final steps three at a time.  

As Loki broke the crest of the hill he jogged to a stop, lungs bursting with the exertion and suddenly all the more breathless for the  _ sheer beauty _ of the grove before him.  Overgrown with ancient gnarled trees and dripping in heavy vines it was still resplendent, ruins of a once proud temple like bleached bones against the greenery surrounding them.

He suddenly felt Thor as his back, the man dropping a sweaty kiss to Loki’s cool dry skin as he muttered, “Cheater.”

“I merely used my advantage.  What is this place?”

“ _ Hof til Heven, _ once it hosted the pathway to the tenth realm.  Long ago before the time of our forebears it was closed.  The legends do not say why, only that there was a great temple where a golden path, similar to the rainbow bridge, stretched into the realm of paradise and healing.  I used to believe it folly, the oldest of superstition. But, as the Midgardian legends hold some kernel of truth about our nature, so, too, must this.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Thor leaned close, the purr of his voice reverberating through Loki as he said, “Not nearly so beautiful as you.”

Loki’s eyes fluttered shut against the tide of pleasure his words brought with it.  “Can we go within?”

“It is safe enough.  It must have been built an age before this one and yet all but the roof remains well intact.  They say great magic was once done here. I thought you might like to see it,  _ kunnigr.” _

“When you say things like that, I hear ‘I love you’.”

“As well you should.”  Thor smiled down at him, not the proud arrogance that so often split his features but a gentle possession.  Loki’s heart beat wildly. Thor asked, “Shall we go within,  _ kærr?   _ Or shall we remain here as statues for the birds to roost upon?”

“May I walk upon your arm?”  

Thor’s sharp inhale of breath told Loki that Thor knew exactly the weight of the question laid before him.  Loki was not one to appear weak, even in private. To give up the pretence of distance, even there, where none could see them, was to give himself over fully to Thor’s love.  He hoped Thor knew that he could make no stronger declaration of his affection. 

“It would be my honour, my heart.”

Thor offered his elbow, Loki folding his hand into the crook as they picked their way up what was once a well tended path but has long since overgrown.  As they walked into the main hall of the temple, similar to the low mead halls of old, before the age of the Asgardians; Loki felt like he was in a dream.

He knew from his studies that the stone would have once been brightly painted, but the ages had robbed the stone of its colour, leaving it pale in the bath of golden sunlight that poured in through the fallen roof, motes of dust dancing in the rays.  All over the columns, the floor, and walls was a writing so ancient it barely resembled even the Old Tongue that he and Thor spoke so freely in broken sentences and endearments.

Thor let him guide them to a column, fingers caressing the weather-worn stone.

“Can you read it, Loki?” Thor asked, voice quiet in the reverence of the sanctum.

Loki shook his head ruefully.  “This is the oldest tongue of the  _ Aesir _ , before they bonded with the  _ Vanir _ to make the Asgard.  I recognise it, some of the spells I work have elements of this tongue, but to read it entire?  It would take years to decipher, even in part.”

“Then come, love, there’s something I wish to show you.”

Loki followed happily as Thor guided him down the length of the ruin, easily as large at the great hall of the Allfather if not so tall.  

In the center of the room Thor paused, lifting a glowing sphere from his pocket and brushed it with magic.  Strains of music began to fill the chamber.

“Thor?” Loki said, confused and uncertain.

Thor smiled as he stepped back, setting the music sphere down on the stones before sweeping into a deep bow and offering his hand.  “Loki Odinson, will you honour me with a dance?”

“Thor.” The word came out like a broken cry.  His heart hurt, swallowed up with a painful gladness.  “Yes,” he breathed, taking Thor’s hand.

His brother swept him into his arms, held as close as one could as he led them through the steps easily.  Loki followed, despite having been taught to lead, and found he did not hate it. The shelter of Thor’s arms had become the only place in the Realms he felt safe and he cleaved to the sensation.  

Thor was sweet, more than Loki would’ve ever attributed to the bombastic warrior, but affection softened the edges of his demeanor.  He could not say how long they moved amongst the fallen stones, picking their way over the detritus as if they were other dancers to avoid.  Surely it must have been hours for the change in sunlight when the music finally faded and Loki pulled Thor to him to take his lips in a fierce kiss.

“You unmitigated bastard.” he growled as they broke apart, swatting the tears of joy from his eyes.

“My love,” Thor said simply.  Another kiss, this time bearing them to the ground on top of the cape Thor laid beneath.

To Loki’s endless surprise, Thor didn’t move to have him once more, though he felt the hot press of his erection against his hip.  He saw the thoughts spinning in Thor’s head, something preoccupying him from the beauty around them. “What’s wrong, brother?”

The shake of his own head that Thor used to pull himself from his thoughts did not soothe Loki, especially when accompanied by his guilty look.  “I am sorry, my love. I promised myself no dark thoughts today.”

“I do not wish them either.  Perhaps another day I would pry but this…” Loki lay back to gaze at the wonder around them, feeling the thrum of ancient magics pulse in the stone.  “Thor, it’s perfect. You overwhelm me with your tenderness.”

“I would have you remember our time fondly.”

“Because it is coming to an end?” Loki cursed himself. Why could he not leave well enough alone?

Thor was silent under the weight of ‘ _ what if’s _ and ‘ _ could be’s _ and Loki wanted to beg him to stop time, to find a way…  But Thor was no more capable of that than he, and Loki felt suddenly crippled under the weight of powerlessness.  When he opened his eyes he found Thor crying silently, sitting with his back to Loki, but it did not matter that his lover hid the wetness of his eyes; Loki could tell from the shaking of his shoulders that he wept.

“Thor…” Loki breathed, wrapping himself around Thor’s back and holding him.

“The hard truth I spoke of?”  

Loki nodded against his back, not trusting his voice.  

“Father has decided I shall take the throne.”

“What? Now?” Loki cried out.

Thor nodded, trembling, and Loki held him once more.  “Father fears he will fall once more into Odinsleep and wishes the matter of succession to be settled.  It is why I did not seek my bed for three days. I thought to give us more time… Though in truth, eternity would not be enough.  My heart is yours,  _ kærr, _ it will never be another’s.”

Thor sighed before continuing. “The Allfather negotiates even now to make a powerful alliance by marriage.  King Forseti of the  _ Vanir _ has many lovely daughters, I’m told.  I am to marry one, though the  _ who _ does not matter.  He spoke of marrying you as well but I convinced him to stay his hand there, at least.

“I thought to-” Thor stammered, “I thought to keep you as my lover, in secret.  A greedy and foolish wish. You deserve much better. But the  _ Vanir _ , they are no Asgardian to whom I could raise to a throne and expect understanding if I cared for another.  The  _ Vanir _ expect devotion, even in arranged marriage.  If it were to be discovered… It would be war and your life forfeit.  I cannot condemn my people-” his voice choked off on a sob, Thor’s body trembling with the tide of emotion he held within.

“Run away with me,” Loki did not even think the words before he spoke them.  A pained silence stretched between them but Loki could not bring himself to take it back.  

Finally Thor spoke, voice full of regret. “You know I cannot.  Loki…” Thor caught Loki’s hand when he moved to pull away, pressing it over his heart so Loki might feel the wild pace of it.  “If I were a selfish man I would say ‘yes’ and never think on it again. My love, there are no heirs but we. If I abandoned my duty...  It would mean civil war, no less bloody than a war of insult with the Vanir. I am but one man, how could I ask for blood to be spilled because I love?  How many others would lose those they cared for?”

“Thor,” Loki keened, and it is a sound of mourning, of farewell.  “How long?”

“Ten days before I must return and but a handful of days beyond that.  I will be crowned at the Summer Solstice.”

Loki’s mind was a tumult of pain, at once running ahead for the path to their freedom and stumbling over the  _ inevitability _ of the end.  The world swam as Loki’s own tears fell, his fingers already tugging Thor’s tunic off.  “Hurt me, Thor,” he begs. “Put your marks so deep inside me that they never heal.” 

There was a moment, a breath where Loki thought Thor would deny him before he captured Loki like an apex predator, forcing him roughly to the ground.  They were both raw, aching things as they tugged the clothes off each other in desperation. 

“Mine,” Thor growled.

“Yours,” Loki responded without hesitation—and if silent tears fell as he said it, neither spoke on it.

Thor bit Loki everywhere he could reach, sinking teeth into flesh as his hands scraped possessive furrows over Loki’s skin.  The pain on Loki’s person soothed the pain in his heart even as he fought his lover, biting back - and Thor growled with delight at the mark blossoming on his collarbone.  Loki clung to his skin, digging his own scratches into Thor’s back.

Loki heard the first peal of thunder even as his skin began to glow, eerie in the gloam of late sunset.  The sound was a balm.

Thor’s hand wrapped around his throat, not cutting off the air but weakening it.

“Call your magic, my love,” Thor commanded and Loki did, summoning skittering pulses over Thor’s skin until the warrior was wrecked with pleasure and pain.

Thor held him down as he pushed into him, rough with a violence he never before had given.  Loki took every hurt as they scraped the rough edges of their souls together. They bled within and without as teeth broke skin.  Loki reveled in it, encouraging and demanding for more…  _ more. _

Their magic started to shift and change as it has done before, the purple cloudy  _ seidr _ of their union seeping into the stones.  Runes started to glimmer, twinkling to life around them but neither Loki nor Thor noticed it as their bodies slammed together in a frenzy.  Neither heard the whisper of voices in a language long forgotten as their power crested and broke over them.

Rain began to fall, quickly turning from a drizzle to a violent storm, and they were soaked as sheets of it covered them and the ancient temple.

They were both close, fighting the edge of release because neither wanted it to end.  Loki pressed his pale hand to Thor’s chest, right over the beat of his heart and Thor matched, sliding the hand away from his throat to cover the same place on his lover.

Lighnting flashed across the sky.

The world fell away.

Their bodies glowed violet with magic, cracks forming along Thor’s skin and whorls on Loki’s. For a moment Loki gazed at this man who had claimed all of him and loved fiercely, the pain of tomorrows far away.  He reached where Thor is still speared within him but rapidly softening and cast his spell. Thor grew hard once more when Loki demanded, “More.”

It was five or perhaps six times—truly, Loki had lost count—before even his spell work could no longer rouse Thor’s cock.  He lay exhausted but  _ unsatisfied _ in his soul. The words he had spoken to his brother earlier were never truer.  _ Satisfaction is not in my nature.  _  He wondered if it would ever be again.

Loki wept with Thor surrounding and enveloping him, belly pressed to the stone beneath; harsh wracking sobs echoed in the heavens as he mourned.  As they both mourned.

“I love you.” Thor said, as if that’s all that mattered.

Loki bit back his desire to curse Thor for daring to ever touch him, for ruining him. But it wasn’t Thor’s fault, not then and not now.

“It’s not enough,” Loki said instead.  “The marks will fade… I want, I need something they can’t take away.”

“No matter what you do, our bodies will heal given enough time.  Even the Midgardian art of tatau is temporary on our flesh.” Thor said, shifting off only long enough to pull Loki into his arms.  “I have a thought,” Thor murmured, crawling away to retrieve his knife. Before he could speak his brother cut a small lock of his hair from his nape, offering it to Loki.  “May I braid this into your hair?”

Loki smiled, tearful yet pleased.  “Please.”

Thor’s fingers deftly twist the length of gold into his sable locks, the plait falling over Loki’s neck behind his ear.  

“I am afraid it will be obvious you have a golden-haired love.” Thor said as he leaned back to admire his handiwork.  

It took Loki but a flick of illusion magic to colour it the same as his own hair but he knew it was Thor’s, could feel the primal magic of his brother in every strand. “Would you like some of mine?”

Thor did not speak but nodded, his face twisted in emotion as he passed the knife.  Loki cut a lock from his neck and braided it into the warrior’s. His brother caught his wrist when he went to shift the colour.  “Leave it, love.”

“Are you certain?”

Thor nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips as he pulled Loki back to his chest.  Loki found a glimmer of happiness in that and wriggled down into Thor’s embrace, wincing at the aches of his body.

“Have I harmed you, Loki?”

Loki rolled his eyes.  “Foolish Prince.”

“Loki…” There was a warning to Thor’s voice now.  “Have I harmed you? Speak plainly.”

“No more than I wished.”

Thor’s fingers brushed tenderly over the bite mark on his chest, over his heart. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, brother I am  _ certain.” _

The warrior sighed, the sound long-suffering as the storm raged outside.  “We should return to the lodge. You are always so cold, the rain can not be good for you.”

Loki didn’t want to go, not that night, and it would be dangerous to try to make it down the mountain in the dark, which is what he said to Thor.

“I could summon Mjolnir and fly us.”

Loki did  _ not  _ like that idea.  He much preferred to be grounded.  “Through the pelting rain? And abandon Bifast?”

“I would gather him in the morn.”

“I wish to remain.” Loki shushed his brother when the man tried to argue. 

The spell was difficult, but there was so much magic in the air it wasn’t hard to power, only to shape.  The rain stopped falling on them by grace of the conjured barrier, though the storm continued outside, the creaking of ancient vines filling the sanctum.

“Loki…” Thor said cautiously.  Thor had always been hesitant of unfamiliar  _ seidr _ but Loki continued without his approval.  It was no more than an illusion made life, familiar yet foreign, as vines sprouted from the ground to wrap around the pillars and make a net.  When the weave was thick and sturdy Loki stood, needing his body to conjure, a much more difficult art.

Pillows and sheets burst to life in the center of the bed - red satin, because he couldn’t help but expend extra energy for that bit of familiarity.  

When he turned, hip cocked in an arrogant stance, Thor was laughing and clapping.

“Ta-da!” Loki said with a wriggle of his hands, showing off.

Thor swept him up, spreading kisses over his bruised body. “My clever  _ kunnigr!” _


	6. Himinn um Ykkarr Armrs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Heaven in Your Arms  
> Old Norse:  
> kærr - darling, beloved  
> sváss - beloved, loved one  
> seidr - magic  
> Bifast - Quake  
> kunnigr - sorcerer, magician

Loki rather liked the bed he’d conjured, the netting making Thor settle against him by gravity rather than intent; though Thor was unlikely to roll away settled between Loki’s legs.

He did not sleep, though his body wished it, his mind too full of the concept that these were his last days with the man he loved and he should savour each breath.  Loki wondered if it were worth it, to know a moment’s fleeting love only to have it torn from him.

It was sudden, the jolt from his melancholy, the refusal of the fate he was resigning himself to.  

_ No. _

He was not Thor, to cave so easily to the demands of duty.  He was Loki, God of Mischief, and by Norns, he would create mischief.  He would find a way… even for more time… even if it weren’t forever.

King Forseti would never marry one of his daughters to a Prince, they coveted their offspring and the powerful magic of their blood.  Stop the coronation.  Stop the wedding.  They could survive the scandal if Forseti refused; Norns knew the old codger adored his three daughters in a way that bordered on saccharine.

By the time Thor stirred in his arms, he had the bones of a plan.  His heart placated, he turned his green eyes to the heavens only to have his breath catch in his throat.

“Thor,” he whispered as the man teetered over the edge of wakefulness and sleep.

“Thor, look,” Loki said again and felt Thor shift to see the meteor shower that had begun, the storm they conjured long since faded.

“Even the heavens weep for your beauty Loki Odin-”

“Loki Thorsváss.” he said before his brother could call him 'Odin son'.  Loki Thorsváss…  _ Loki, Beloved of Thor _ . That was who he was, what he would always be.  His own mother took the name Odinsváss when they married to show the people that it wasn’t just a marriage of convenience, but of utter devotion.

Loki would never be free to declare it publically, but here?  Whispered in their secret place and written into the secret corners of their hearts…?  That he could do.

Thor said nothing, but tugged Loki down, shifting them until his dark hair was splayed over the forearm pillowing his head. Thor’s large body bracketed around him, protecting him.  The kiss was gentle, all reverent sweetness.

“It will kill me the day you marry another,” Thor said as he caressed the sharp edges of Loki's cheekbones, sadness in his eyes speaking to depths of pain that words could not begin to express.

“I would never,” Loki sneered, the idea laughable.

Thor’s smile was soft and full of regret.  “You say that now, but our lives are long.  I hope you find another to care for you, to give you all the things I cannot.  I pray to the Norns and the spirits of our ancestors that there’s happiness beyond these moments for you.”  Tears welled in Thor’s eyes but they did not fall.  “And I would have you marry for happiness, for love.  I will fight Father with my last breath to keep you free of the fate chosen for me.”

And oh… oh, that hurts and swells his heart in equal measure.

Loki thought he understood, thought he comprehended the shape of Thor’s love but it is so much larger than he imagined, so much nobler.  Loki wondered if he was even worthy of Thor's love. His love was not selfless. In his heart jealousy coiled, poisoning the tender flesh.

Thor pressed their foreheads together, the silence broken only by the rasp of their breathing.

“I will never love another,” Loki said, and he is certain.  “I do not believe I am made for such things.”  Pressing the tips of his fingers into the bite mark on Thor’s bicep and he smiled when his brother hissed in pain, even happier when Thor did not pull away.  “Shall I heal you?”

“Mother says you’re a terrible healer.”

“I am passingly fair,” Loki spat with indignity.  “That she is one of the most accomplished healers in the kingdom does not disparage my moderate skill.  But for the magic of illusion, I am considered the best.”

His brother chuckled in his ear as he nuzzled Loki's neck.  “I have always found your skill with  _ seidr _ impressive.  I was never much inclined toward spell work.”

“You were never much inclined to the study required, always off chasing Sif’s skirts or tormenting the kingdom with the Warriors Three. That is until Sif knocked you on your arse, and then it was the five of you tormenting all and sundry.”

“I recall you being there.” 

Loki shook his head sadly. “Chasing in your glorious shadow.”

“ _ Kærr, _ ” Thor sighed and reached for him, but Loki batted his hands away when his brother would have cupped his face.

“It is an old hurt and meaningless now.  Do not fret upon it.”

Thor took his face in his large calloused hand, not letting Loki withdraw.  “I would heal it.”

“Then tell me of how my  _ glorious seidr _ has impressed you, brother.”

Thor’s laugh was deep and rich as he says, “Now who wishes their ego stroked?”

“Mmm,” Loki purred in kittenish seduction as hooked his leg over Thor’s hip, arching their pelvises together as he bit his lip.  “Would you deny me?”

“Ahhh Loki,” Thor hissed even as his cock hardens, “you’re insatiable.”

“You make me so.”

Thor growled in assent as he dipped his mouth to Loki’s neck.  They made love under the stars and as he drifted to sleep Loki vowed he would never let Thor go.

~ 

In the morning they stumbled down the mountain together, arms linked and stomachs growling.  Thor did not race ahead but took the path that Loki chose, his big, warm hand at the small of Loki’s back.  It was paradise.

Thor helped him over the massive boulder on which Thor claimed him but the day before, an ocean of emotion ago and they having crossed onto the other side.  Loki considered dragging Thor to the carpet of moss once more but smiled and moved on.  He wanted only to forge ahead, not relive memories like a maudlin old woman.  

He did not need to.  Thor would be his.

Loki knew instinctively that Thor would refuse him, were he to share his plan, having no stomach for manipulations and plots.  He would ensure their future alone; it was the only gift he could give for the wonder that was Thor’s love.

Their stomachs growled angrily and Thor laughed, “How is it you can conjure red satin sheets from thin air but not food?”

“I  _ can _ conjure food,” Loki said in a huff, allowing Thor to tug him close and kiss across his hairline to soothe him, “but had you ever paid attention to your lessons in spellwork, you’d know that conjured food gives no satisfaction.  Men have died eating glittering feasts bourne of magic.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’,” Loki sneered but caressed the braided lock of their entwined hair that laid against his own neck with a gentle fondness.

They walked in silence for some time, Thor’s hands never quite leaving Loki’s person and, for his part, Loki craved every touch.

“Your magic is nothing to be ashamed of, Thor.”

Thor smiled and kissed Loki’s nose. “I am not ashamed, merely proud when I think of the power you wield and the honour that you’ve given yourself to me.”

“Flatterer,” Loki said, a blush blooming across his cheeks.

“What does my  _ seidr _ feel like to you, Loki?” Thor asked as they reached Bifast, greeting the horse before swinging into the saddle and reaching down for his brother.  

Loki took the time to think of an answer but Thor continued before he can form it. 

“I cannot sense your magic unless you’re in a working; Mother said it is because mine is not just within me, but forms a barrier between myself and the world - the reason I so rarely am injured in battle.  Perhaps also the reason I cannot spellweave. But I can sense it when I am buried within you-” Loki shivers at the thought of that, “-it welcomes me.  It is why I asked you to call your magic when we coupled.  I find it… soothing.”

He curled more deeply into Thor’s arms as Bifast picked his way down the hill, the woods thick and shadowy.  It took some time for him to settle the fire Thor’s words stoked in his veins so that he might answer.  “Your magic is blunt, elemental, like Mjolnir, but no less powerful for it.  I suspect if you learned to weave you would find small workings more difficult than grand.  I draw from it, betimes, when we battle together.  You expend your  _ seidr _ like there’s an infinite well within you.”

Thor snorted. “That is not true.”

“I know, but you have no sense of conserving your power.  As with everything, brother,” he teased fondly,  “you ever try to bash your way through the universe - physically and metaphysically.”

They returned to the cabin by midday and Thor set to cooking a feast; though really it is a simple stew, Loki revelled in the hearty taste when Thor presented it to him.

“I did not know you could cook.” Loki said between one bowl and the next.

“I would hardly qualify it as such, but I am glad you enjoy it.  Please eat your fill.  For a  _ kunnigr  _ of your power, you too often forget that your magic needs more sustenance than air.”

Loki rolled his eyes at Thor’s mothering but did not speak, hunger overriding his mouthiness.  After they finally put the bowls aside, Loki cleaning them with a curl of magic, he drew his brother to bed.

They did not speak much in the hours after midday, Thor stroking Loki’s hair as Loki’s fingers curled in the dusting of blond upon his chest.

“I would that there were a bath,” Loki grumbled finally.

“Do you believe I would bring you somewhere without?” Thor asked affectionately, rolling Loki so that he could pepper gentle kisses over his face, jaw and neck.

“Oh?” Loki said.  “Then where are you hiding it, dear master of illusion?”

Thor nipped at his chin before releasing him.  “Pack a bag of clothes and I shall show you.”

The ‘bath,’ it seemed, was a deep pool fed by natural hot springs, nestled within the caves behind the cabin.  Loki felt the wards that kept animals away as he crossed the threshold, standing dumbstruck for a moment because - damn his romantic heart - Thor had spread candles about the chamber, their flames dancing in the steam.

“How-?”

“I slipped away while you were packing,” Thor said, his calloused hands tugging at Loki’s clothing and undressing him with care.  “I would make love to you.”  It was a confession spoken when they are both bare with Loki facing him, Thor’s hand cradling his head.  “So often it is violence between us, our natures termagant at best.  But tonight I would have softness, I would show you what you mean to me.  If you would allow it?”

Loki smiled fondly, even though he could not meet Thor’s gaze.  How did he ever think he could let Thor go?  “I am yours, my lord.”

Thor was all sweetness as he guided him into the waist-deep water.  He was happily surprised when Thor moved to bathe him, using the soaps Loki brought and massaging them through his hair fingers careful with the braid of their locks.  Strong hands moved to wash Loki’s body, thorough with his ministrations until Loki floated on the sensation, more relaxed than he could ever remember.  At some poi, t Thor washed himself but he had little memory of it.

His brother’s warm hands guided him to the edge of the pool, lifting and placing Loki on the ledge before pressing him gently to lay back.  His green eyes fluttered closed, waiting only for Thor to ask to place the oil on his fingers - the spell already dancing on his lips - when the hot press of Thor’s tongue against his entrance had him yelping in surprise.

“Norns!” Loki cried, his voice echoing off the walls of the cave as Thor’s dirty chuckle joined in.  The sounds he made next were animalistic, pleasure whiting his ability to speak as Thor tasted and tasted.  He was skilled in this, though hesitant at first; Loki’s breathless moans had him moving with more and more confidence, until Loki was little more than a babbling, chattering mess.  “You unmake me!  Thor!  Please!”

“What do you need, my heart?  Tell me.”

The noise Loki made was as inarticulate as it was desperate.  Thor laughed in answer.

“I like you like this,  _ kærr. _  You can cause no mischief when you are mindless with pleasure.”

Oh, and he had to say something to  _ that _ .  Loki was as surprised as any when he actually formed the words, “You are as ill-behaved as I.”  He adds some bite to his voice, the sharp edge of a vicious smile tinged with the knife edge of pleasure. “But you, golden son of Odin, your mischief is forgotten as childhood pranks.  Mine is remembered in  _ Eddas _ of my dark nature.”

“The people love you…”

“The people tolerate me because they love  _ you _ , because they love Mother and yes, even Father.”

“Loki-”

“It does not matter,” Loki said, cutting him off before leaning up to grasp the back of Thor’s head. “You love me.  It is all I need.  All I’ve ever needed.”

They smiled into each other’s kiss.

Thor made love to him, sweet, seductive.  He showed Loki with deeds the depths of his affection, but also heaped praise upon praise.  When Thor entered him it was slow and gentle, his thrusts keeping a maddeningly idle, but unrelenting, pace.  He built Loki to release twice and tooks none for his own.

When Loki floated away from himself in the languour of pleasure, unable to conceive of movement, Thor dried him gently and lifted him, holding him close.  As Thor carried him back to the cabin, the bag of his unneeded clothes slung over Thor’s shoulder, Loki glimpsed the moons of Asgard and was struck by their beauty. He wondered if he had absorbed Thor’s mawkish nature through his skin.

His brother laid him on the bed with gentle reverence, kissing every bruise, every freckle until Loki ached once more.  When he tried to form the words or reach to bring his brother over in his own pleasure, Thor denied him softly.  “Soon, my love,” the warrior promised, dropping a kiss over the flare of Loki’s hip. “Soon.”

Thor was naked, his golden skin gleaming in the moonlight from the window and dancing from the firelight.  If it were possible to slow time Loki would cast it, the consequences of such magic be damned.  With no infinity stone to break the laws of the cosmos, he focused on memorising the moment so that he might hold it always in his heart.

Thor took him in his mouth.

At first Loki could do nothing but focus on not thrusting into the heat of it.  Oh, he’d known it would feel good, but it was all the more because Thor did this for  _ him _ .  And he knew the way of it well for having never performed thus, though Loki supposed he was doing what others had done to him.  It was glorious and unhurried but Loki found himself scrabbling at the sheets as his release neared.

Thor pulled away, spreading kisses on his neck.  “I would bring you to climax while I am buried within you,  _ kærr.” _

“Yes,” Loki sighs, the sound drawn long and sibilant.

Before Loki can think to conjure oil for them, Thor is pressing slick fingers into his entrance.  It was easy to open him after the contentment of so much pleasure, and it wasn’t long before Thor was within him once more.

“I love you,” Thor whispered against the column of his throat, nipping at the bruises he’s left there.

Loki could not speak, too far gone in the hazy bliss of what Thor had wrought in his body, but when Thor kissed him gently Loki deepened it, tried to show Thor how he felt.  Loki reached his third orgasm and Thor gentled him through it as he grew too sensitive.  He felt Thor withdraw a moment later, spilling over Loki’s belly.

Eyes closed with pleasure, Loki dragged his fingertips through the mess on his stomach, bringing them to his mouth to taste their combined seed.  It was bitter and tangy, perfect because it was theirs.  He growled when Thor left the bed but was appeased a moment later when his lover returned, cleaning Loki gently before joining him upon the sheets.

Thor held him and Loki clung to wakefulness, if only to linger in those moments before sleep claimed them both.  Even so, Loki eventually surrendered to the blissful dark as Thor’s soft snores lulled him asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank SoulRebel for their tireless beta of this piece as well as catching my awful tendency to tense shift! Your work is much appreciated!


	7. Losna Vænta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Broken Hope
> 
> Old Norse:  
> Sudrœn Grind - Southern Gate  
> kærr - darling, beloved  
> kunnigr - conjuror, magician  
> sváss - beloved  
> Lokisváss - beloved of Loki  
> Thorsváss - beloved of Thor

Their time together drew short no matter how much Loki still clung to the present, his plan for the future waiting only for his return.  Despite his machinations, it required the agency of others, and that was always uncertain. Never before had his tricks meant more than this one, and he found himself tight with anxiety when his mind lingered too long on it.

They rode back to the city with heavy hearts, Thor caught in a swirl of sadness that even Loki could not draw him from.  So they rode together until within sight of the  _ Sudrœn Grind; _  Thor took their mounts to the same river to rest, and they made tender love amid the gnarled roots of an ancient tree.

“You must heal yourself, Loki, and I.  We cannot return with love bites upon our skin.”

Loki did, beginning with himself, Thor’s eyes sad as he watched the bruises fade from his neck and shoulders.  Loki left the bite over his heart and the matching one, half-healed, on Thor’s chest, but the others were gone as if they never were.  Thor cried earnestly at the thought of this being the end, or near enough. Loki held him comfortingly; it was near dark before they found the courage to turn their mounts toward the city.

The palace lay asleep when they returned and after they entered their chambers through separate doors, ever mindful of the eyes of servants and guards, they met in Thor’s chambers.  Loki bathed Thor from a basin of fresh water, despite a spell being quicker, and they fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

 

Loki was up before the dawn and already moving his pawns into place.  Sending a secret message to Jotünheim wasn’t too hard when you knew all the smuggling routes in and out of Asgard. Confirmation of the message's reception arrived as he was pulled into greeting the Vanir contingent.  Princess Inkeri was lovely, though vain in the way the Vanir are want to be, but Loki finds he hates her instantly if only because she is meant to be Thor’s queen.

Each day he rose with the dawn and slipped from Thor’s bed, helping his mother with the endless preparations for the celebration.  She remarked upon his sober nature only once, reassuring him that Thor would be a good and wise king. Which is exactly what Loki is worried about.  The whole plan rested on Thor proving himself to be so intemperate for rule that King Forseti would withdraw or postpone the engagement, Pressing Odin to still wear the crown.

Right now, Loki gambled for time.  Later he would worry over eternity.

After his mother dismissed him he went to the great library, trying to find a spell to fulfil the secret need of his heart.   _ A mark they cannot take, nor time fade. _

The day before the solstice Loki retired early, relieved to find Thor already alone in his chambers.  Upon noticing him, his brother smiled, but it is weak and heartbroken. 

“I sent Sif and the Warriors Three away so that I might ‘rest’.”

Loki grimaced, knowing there would be little rest for either of them this night.

They ate together in silence, hands clenched across the table, and Thor fed him bites from his own hand.  Loki did not object - anything to lift the pallor of suffering on his brother’s shoulders. Tomorrow Thor would smile as if his heart isn’t breaking; he would perform and accept the crown and the wife chosen for him.  

And Loki would stop it before any of it can happen.

They made love like it were the end of the world as a fierce storm shook the palace, winds buffeting the walls.

Loki stood naked at the glass panes, gazing into the rain-soaked courtyard.  Thor slept, collapsed in exhaustion after days without rest, but he knew it would not linger for his brother.  Thor’s mind was disquieted this evening, as was Loki’s.

He was hardly surprised when his brother met him at the window, wrapping Loki’s pale body in his warmth.

“Come to bed, love,” Thor said sadly.  “There’s nothing to be done.”

Loki was relieved that wasn’t true.  “I found a spell, one to place a mark upon our bodies.  A shared mark. Did you mean what you said?”

Thor kissed his cheek and stepped back, arms splayed wide.  “Cast your spell,  _ kærr. _  Mark me as yours.”

“Thor,” Loki commanded softly, “place your hand upon my heart.”  And he did, pulling Loki into his embrace.

He formed it, using the now stagnant remains of the magic they called during their coupling to power it.  It was complex, far more than he expected, and the spell twists and turns like a living thing. Loki felt the moment it snapped to life, golden light flaring from his left hand as he pressed it to Thor’s chest over his heart.  

The world fell away.

Loki awoke in Thor’s embrace on the floor, but it felt strange as if he is both holding and being held.  Emotions not his own flood his mind and he found the sensation dizzying.

“Loki,” Thor breathed, dragging him close and kissing him tenderly.  “Speak to me, my love.”

“I’m alright,” he managed, though the sound was rough as shattered glass.

He dragged his eyes to his brother, the warrior looking at him and Loki not only  _ saw _ but  _ felt _ the complex swirl of his emotions, of his love, as if he is a ship being buffeted by the tides of  _ want _ .  He knew it to be separate from himself, but it entirely engulfs him.

“What happened?” Loki asked.

“You did it, my love.” Thor drew Loki’s fingers to the fresh mark on his chest; where a healing bite once stood now lay a heart, the edges misty with purple clouds like the head of a great storm flecked with blue-white lightning and eerie green magic.

Its twin sits on Loki’s own skin in the same place.

“My clever  _ kunnigr, _ ” Thor praised.

“Can you sense me?” he asked, pressing his fingers against the mark.

“What do you mean?” 

Loki remembered what Thor said about his magic forming a barrier and envisioned the connection between them, pushing his love through it.

“Loki!” Thor gasped against him.  “Is that...?”

“My affection.”

Thor held him close, keening against his body like a wounded animal.

“Thor?”

“I had hoped you did not love me.” Thor breathed against his skin in anguish. “Terrible enough that I suffer with this pain, I had hoped… that it was foolish infatuation, fondly remembered but not mourned.  The Norns do not grant even that kindness.” 

Thor looked at him then and he was wrecked, shattered more than Loki had ever seen. He wanted to reveal his plan, to give Thor the glimmer of hope he has cleaved to since their return from the cabin, but the words froze on his tongue.

“I know how you feel for me,” Thor whispered softly against the column of his throat, “but will you not say the words? Here? On our last night?”

Loki chewed his lip anxiously.  Oh, he wanted to speak them, more than anything - but fear held his tongue, fear that if he gave that last bit of himself to this man then he would never be his own again.  Fear that if his plan tomorrow failed, he would need that remnant of dignity to survive it.

But then he looked into Thor’s blue eyes, already broken, already suffering, and he could not deny him.

“I love you, Thor Lokisváss.  And I am yours, utterly.”

His brother wailed in grief and drew him close, kissing him until their lungs screamed.  They broke apart only long enough to breathe as tears tracked down both their cheeks. They coupled a dozen times that night, pressing into each other as if in so doing they would not be parted until light painted the dawn bloody.

As Loki drew away, intent to return to his chambers, Thor tugged him back a final time.  Cupping Loki’s jaw, he pressed their mouths together in a chaste kiss. When he could linger no longer he lifted his golden head only far enough to tilt his forehead against Loki’s. 

“I love you.  I will never forget what you’ve given to me.”

Loki choked on a sob, hearing the ‘goodbye’ in those words… he could not consider this a true farewell. Thor would be his, he had to believe it.  

“I love you, Thor.  I am yours.”

~

He spent the hours before the ceremony alone, trying to put together the shattered fragments of his mask.  He wondered if Thor was doing the same. Loki could feel a throb of pain, like a wound trying to heal, through the connection he had formed between them.  He had not known the spell would do so much and wondered if he would come to regret it, though somehow he did not think so. He focused on erecting a wall between his emotions and those of his love.  Thor may not feel him unless Loki wills it, but Loki feels every ache and it weakens him. He considered taking Thor from this place, of fleeing, but in knowing that Thor will not go he trusts himself.

Frigga found him at midday, and by that time he felt more like himself.  He is the God of Lies - his plan  _ would _ work, it  _ must _ .  When he took the hall at Frigga’s side he could not regret the pride that swelled his heart.  His mother was beyond lovely and the people adored her; he did not mind standing in the shadow of her glory, as he did his father’s.

When Thor entered, the shouting of the crowds grew deafening, their joyous cries for the man who would be king tugging a smile to his lips.  His love raised Mjolnir and the crowd’s stomping joined the din of their happiness. When Thor turned to the throne and their father upon it, there was a momentary flicker as blue eyes met green, and their masks slipped.  The maw of Thor’s pain stole the breath from Loki’s breast.

_ I will free us, brother. _

The vow was as true as he could make it.  

The speeches were interminable, each seeming longer than the last, and in his stomach dwelled a sickness.   _ Where are the Jotün?   _  His eyes could not help but pause on the Vanir and lovely, vain, blonde Princess Inkeri. They frightened him with their polite smiles more than the headsman, his future in the balance.

Odin paused in his speech before declaring, “The Frost Giants.  Enemies within the palace!”

Above the whispering panic of the crowd, Odin commanded his men to protect the Vanir, leading Thor and his warriors toward the spies.  When they reached the hall Odin ordered Thor, Sif and Fandral towards the right stair while Hogun and Volstagg join him on the left. Loki considered following Thor before his mind lingered on the casket.  They must not actually succeed. Knowing their destination, Loki took the shortest route to the trophy room. 

They are locked in battle with the Destroyer when Loki reached them, one of the Jotün flying past his shoulder into the wall.  The blue-skinned giant recovered quickly and is on Loki before he realised he had become prey.

“The other prize of Laufey comes to us,” the Jotünar growled as he wrestled Loki to the ground.

There was no finesse in this contest as he tried to keep the icy hands of the frost giant from his skin, that he might not be burned by the cold.  He had seen such wounds on warriors and claim limbs. The giant gripped his tunic and bashed his head into the floor once, twice, and as the world tipped and darkness attempted to claim him, a window caved inward.

He felt the weight of the giant lift off him, heard Thor’s voice as he engaged the Jotün in a challenge.  The God of Thunder made quick work of the agents with the help of the Destroyer.

“Loki,” Thor’s voice cried from above him, but everything swam strangely.  “Are you hurt brother? Speak to me,  _ kærr. _ ”

“Thor,” Loki managed.

“I thought you dead,” Thor said, so softly he can barely hear the words, a choked reproval.

“My love,” Loki soothed, pushing himself up enough to wrap his arms around his warrior. The angle was awkward but seemed to settle something in the other man who shudders in relief.  

“Do not leave me,” Thor begged, and Loki was shocked by the broken desperation in Thor’s words. “I can suffer anything… any torment of time or distance, but to live in a universe where you no longer draw breath? I cannot…! I cannot…”

“Foolish Prince,” he said as he tucked Thor’s blond locks behind his ear.

His brother caught his hands and drew them to his lips, spreading kisses over the knuckles. The clamour of boots reminded them of themselves and by the time Odin and the Warriors made it to the hallway Loki was on his feet, albeit with Thor’s arm around him, clutching his bleeding head.

“They sought the Casket,” Thor said, his voice tight with emotion as Sif took Loki’s other side and helped him stand more fully.  “We must ride to Jotünheim, this cannot be allowed to stand.”

“This is but the work of a few,” Odin soothed.  Loki could feel the cold rage from their bond and knew Odin’s words would find no purchase.  “It is no reason to bring war upon our people.”

“The people are not cowards that they would ignore such indignity!  They violated the palace, came for a weapon and attacked your younger son.  They spoke of taking Loki, called him Laufey’s prize. Would you let such insult stand?!”

Odin turned to Loki then, his one eye examining his son and Loki felt laid bare as if his father might know he was the cause of such things.  But no, Odin had ever been blinded to his trickery. “Is this true, my son?” Odin asked gently.

“I remember little,” which was true enough, the blow to his head making everything a bit foggy.

“Is my word not enough, father?” Thor challenged his jaw tight.  “As king of Asgard…!”

“But you’re not King.  Not yet.”

Loki sensed the blow of Odin’s words on Thor and worked to school the victory from his expression.

“Any who step foot upon Jotünheim will be disavowed.  Now, excuse me, but I must see to the Vanir.”

Odin swept from the chamber and, while Thor was raging, he did not come undone.  He and Sif helped Loki to his chamber, sending for a healer and after much poking and prodding and two foul potions later he was left alone.  He immediately flung himself out of bed and used the bond to track Thor down. Turned out it was in the banquet hall, the large table flipped over and food everywhere.

“You should be resting, brother,” he said tightly as Loki sat upon the step beside him.  “It is unwise to be in my company now.”

“Than I shall be foolish.”  Loki perched just close enough that the edges of their palms brushed when he gripped the step.  “Are you alright?”

“I should be asking you that,” Thor said, heaving a sigh. Loki could feel a pang of longing through the link they share.  “It angers me that they would harm you, take you from me.” He spoke softly so that only Loki would hear but it was through gritted teeth.  “Father seeks the alliance with the Vanir to make us stronger but we would not need it if we did not allow our enemy’s armies to grow to fullness.  He has grown soft in his age.” Thor’s posture collapsed slouching onto his elbows. “They would still have me marry, even without the crown, King Forseti discusses the how and why even now.”

Loki’s world upended with those few words… and a cold resolve settled over him.  He convinced Thor and his warriors to go to Jotünheim.


	8. Bregdask Kostr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Nothing Else Matters
> 
> Old Norse:

The land of the Frost Giants was lovelier than Loki might have imagined, fields of ice and snow glimmering under the stars with peaks of white-topped spires.

That they even managed to make it to the halls of Laufey Jotün-King with Thor leading in a direction seemingly at random was a wonder or, perhaps, a curse.  And yet, there they were standing before blue giants of men with burning red eyes. He nearly missed Laufey among the crags, so distracted was he by the magic of the ice and how it called to his  _seidr_ , curling around him and whispering with dark promise.

“Thor,” Loki whispered but the sound was lost amid Laufey’s voice.

“You have come a long way to die, Asgardians.”

“I am Thor Odinson,” Thor said firmly, “and I have come for answers.”

“We know who you are,” Laufey said, cocking his head to the side like a great frostbird, “Odinson.  And you bring me my prize.” Those great red eyes turn to Loki, pierced through him as if he were _known_.

“You will not speak of my brother that way,” Thor roared stepping between him and Laufey’s eerie gaze.

“Thor,” Loki hissed, fear clutching his heart.  He could see Thor’s death in Laufey’s eyes and it suddenly struck him with how foolish he had been.  It seemed his love was not entirely selfish.  He realised that worse than Thor marrying the haughty princess was his brother never drawing breath once more.  “Thor, we should leave, we will find no answers here.”

“Listen to the runtling, Odinson.  Leave while I yet allow it.”

“Thor,” Loki whispered and meant _'my love'_.  He pushed his fear, his unbridled terror through their bond and Thor faltered, turned to go.  Relief washed over him so palpable he barely kept his feet.

“Run away little prince.”

A pregnant silence fell over the frozen planet and Loki watched in horror as rage twisted the features of Thor’s face.  

No.

He tried to stop his brother, to hold him back with word or deed but Thor would have none of it.

Loki’s heart thundered in his ears as Thor summoned Mjolnir.  They were lunged upon on all sides by the Frost Giants, great weapons of ice glittering in the eternal twilight of Jotüheim.  He lunged to the side as he heard Laufey roar, “Seize the runtling.”

He, it seemed, was ‘the runtling’ but what that meant, or why every Jotünar knew him by that name he could not fathom nor could he dwell on it as they were swarmed by the frozen warriors.

The Jotün were fierce as they pour from the ledges of ice, surrounding their small party.  He tried to stay near Thor, protecting his brother but the idiot gave chase to a giant and was taken from his side.  

He dared not call the magic of their joining, not knowing the way to control it and therefore relied on his tricks to lure the giants off ledges and into each other’s weapons.

“Do not let them touch you!” Volstagg cried out even as one of the warriors pinned Loki against the ice, snatching at his arm as he went strike.  The warrior grasped his vambrace and the metal shattered beneath the cold of his touch like little more than a child’s toy.

As the Jotünar’s icy hand made contact with his flesh he expected pain, the kind that could make a warrior like Volstagg scream, but he felt nothing.  He looked to where their bodies made contact his skin was turning blue like the giant’s, the sight making something fearful twist in Loki’s gut. When the prince met the warrior’s red eyes there was a gleam of satisfaction in their fiery depths before he plunged a dagger into his throat.

He spun in time to see Fandral lanced by icy spikes.

Loki plucked upon the bond and it directed him to Thor, once he knew where to look he could see his love amid a nest of lunging Jotünar, Mjolnir cutting a path through their numbers.  He could feel the _seidr_ pouring off his brother and he drew some to him, forming into a force spell that knocked enough of the Frost Giant’s clear that they were able to stumble through and back to Thor’s side.

“We must go!” Loki shouted over the din of fighting.

“Then go!” Thor returned in equal measure as he spun, releasing Mjolnir to fly through the Jotünar that were stumbling to their feet.

“I will not leave you!” he screamed, plunging a dagger into a warrior who sought to capture them.

“Go, Loki,” Thor vowed, “I will follow.”

“Swear it.”

Thor tugged Loki close, too close and murmured in his ear, “I swear it, my love.”  The desperate roar of a Jotünar drew them apart and suddenly he was turning away from his brother - his heart - and joining the Warrior’s Three, Sif slotting along his other side as they fled the field.

He felt the cracking of the ice before he heard the roar of the beast.

Volstagg’s voice split the endless night, “Run!”

“We are running!” Loki shouted above the din, daring to sneak a look over his shoulder.

“Don’t look back, you fool,” Sif hissed as they leapt over the frozen wastes that broke apart beneath their tread.  They careened across the frozen land, the ice monster gaining at every moment as Fandral was carried upon Volstagg’s shoulder.

It was then Thor - foolish, intemperate Thor - called lightning to Mjolnir and even the ground beneath their feet sought to give way.  Thor flew past them, Mjolnir carrying him forward as he cried, “Heimdall, open the bridge!”

Even as they paused on the icy ledge there was no answer until the great beast, having fallen behind, suddenly appeared before them.  That Thor struck it down with a blow from Mjolnir as he sped through the air was not so surprising. But it was at that moment that the Frost Giants surrounded them and their father appeared.  

And, oh, his sweet foolish Thor thought it was a boon - but it was not.

Even though he had sent word to Odin to bring him behind them his heart was in his throat.  He had not stood before his father’s gaze since bedding Thor, save briefly at the coronation and now, with his one eye upon them he worried that the Allfather would see his love, his fear; that he would unwind his machinations as easily as he commanded Sleipnir.

When they returned shamefully through the Bifrost the warriors were dismissed to the healers, not to be held accountable for their princes’ actions but Thor and Loki remained to face Odin Borson, Odin Friggasváss and his terrible judgement.

“You stupid boy!” Odin hissed, pacing back and forth before his sons.  “You would weaken our kingdom when we need strength. The Vanir have already heard of your foolish actions and withdrawn from the agreement to wed.  Their King speaks now of ‘one day’ making a strong alliance by marriage. Are you in love that you would do something so foolish? For if it were true I would have you speak on it.  I would hope you know I would not keep you from such a happy fate.”

For a moment Loki hoped that Thor would say it, consequences be damned.  He wanted his love laid at his father’s feet out of the mouth of his brother.  

“No,” Thor said tightly.  

Loki tried not to feel the hurt.

“I went because the Jotün defiled the coronation," Thor raged, "tried to steal from you and harm a member of your blood.  They must be put in their place. They must learn to fear me, as they once feared you!”

“Loki was more harmed in your little stunt than the fool-hardy attempt to return a lost treasure!”

“I am fine,” Loki said gently, trying to diffuse the tempers of two men far too similar.  The wedding was off, his mission done. He needed no other victory that night and would bring his own ego low to accomplish it.

“Are you nothing,” Odin continued toward Thor as if he did not speak, “but pride and vanity, my son?  You cannot protect your own warriors! How to you intend to protect this kingdom?!”

“I will protect it as I always have, with strength of arms!” Thor shouted.

“And when that strength fails?  Have you forgotten everything I taught you about a warrior’s patience?”

“There is a time for patience and a time for actions, father.  You would stand and give speeches while Asgard burns!”

“You are a vain, greedy…”

As the argument heated Loki was filled with a terrible fear.

“...old man and a fool!”

Loki saw the words strike their father, saw them hit too close.  Oh Thor, you _idiot_. He wished then he’d had time to teach his brother the way to kerb his tongue.  The warrior had spoken sweetly enough in love but all the poetry turned to ashes in anger.

“I was a fool,” Odin said softly, “to think you were ready…”

Loki knew.  He was never gifted with a seer’s abilities but he knew in that moment something terrible was brewing in Odin’s mind.  “Father-”

The man silenced him with a growl.

“Thor Odinson,” their father spoke softly but it was the pronouncement of a king, “you have betrayed the express command of your king.  Through your arrogance and stupidity, you’ve opened these peaceful realms and innocent lives to the horror and desolation of war!” His staff crashed into the mechanism of the Bifrost, making it flare to life.  “You are unworthy of these realms! You are unworthy of your title! You’re unworthy of the loved ones you have betrayed.”

Loki could not speak for the fear that gripped his heart.   _No, father,_  he pled in his mind but his father was not then nor never was psychic.

“I now take from you your power,” Odin declared, Mjolnir flying to his hand, “in the name of my father and his father before,” Loki could feel Thor’s  _seidr_ being stripped from his person, swirling inward only to be locked away.  No longer was his magic in his skin like a shield but buried inside. “I, Odin Allfather, cast you out!”

Loki moved, fast, faster than he’d ever managed even as Mjolnir flew past his head and into the Bifrost gate.  It closed as he skidded across the floor prepared to leap behind his brother and follow.

“No!” Loki cried, spinning to his father.  “Open the Bifrost, send me with him.”

“You would leave a kingdom on the brink of war with no heir, Loki Odinson?”  

He swallowed the emotion in his throat, the tears that threatened to come.  At that moment the bond he had placed on their chests was stretched so thin it felt like Thor’s death.  Loki knew what Thor would want but he did not care. His brother was the selfless one, the one meant to rule.  Loki was all those things Odin laid at his elder son’s feet. It was Loki’s poisoned words that Thor cast at their father in anger like great stones.

“Thor needs me,” he breathed.

“The Bifrost will remain closed.  Come, my son.”

Mournful. Loki shook his head, staring out over the vastness of the Realms.  “I will stay awhile.”

Odin sighed heavily, already removing his staff and turning toward the palace.  He never could much stand Loki’s presence, only Thor could do that and he was gone.  

“Will you ever allow him to return?”

“If he learns to be worthy.”  Loki wondered what his father meant, for Loki had never found Odin less worthy than in that moment of bitter anger.  “You love your brother, this is a good thing but, betimes, I fear you love him too much.”

_If only you knew, Odin Allfather.  If only you knew._

~

Loki found shelter in Thor’s bed from the emotions that stormed his heart.  He was ashamed that he wept, breathing in the scent of the missing other half of him from silken sheets.

“Thor,” he sobbed, “I’m so sorry.  I’ve failed you, brother.”

All his plots and not only could he not touch the man he loved, but he could not see him, could not hear the laughter in his voice.  The sickness in his soul that had been banished with Thor’s touch began to crowd his mind, whispering of power and violence.

He found no to rest that night, even with the slow fading scent of his beloved.

“Thor Lokisváss,” he cursed into the bedclothes even as he loved, “you have unmade me.”

In the morning, blood-soaked dawn for all the joy the rays of light brought him, Loki bathed in water far too hot for his skin.  He scrubbed his flesh in hopes of relieving the scratching below, an addiction to the man no longer by his side.

He dressed, the royal robes covering the blistered mess he’d made of his own pale body, before going to his mother’s antechamber.  When he embraced her his mother looked little better than he felt, though his mask was better. They drank tea together, as was their custom, for a long time.

Eventually, Loki said, “Beg father to bring him home.”

Frigga shook her head in sadness.  “Loki, my son, do you think I have not done so?  But this is not a matter for Odin, father of Thor,” she sighed, setting down her teacup before grasping his hands in her smaller ones.  “Thor was banished by his King, so that he might learn a lesson-”

Loki snorted, the sound derisive to his own ears.  “A lesson? No doubt to humble his perfect heir. And yet, Father has no humility.  He punishes Thor for being too much like him.”

“Stop,” Frigga ordered firmly.  “You are angry. I know your love for your brother runs deep–”

_You know nothing._

“–but do not say things you will regret.”

“Then convince father to send me to Midgard,” Loki pled tightly.

“I cannot.  He must learn this lesson alone.”

Loki wanted to roar, to grasp his mother’s small shoulders and shake sense into her.  He did not. Rather, he stood in silence and made his way to her balcony, breathing in the sweet air of the dawn.  He wondered what Thor did at that moment, he longed to know.

“Loki,” his mother breathed, wrapping him from behind in an embrace.

“I cannot sit here in eternal worry for him.”

“Then come,” Frigga said, stepping back and marching slowly from her chamber so that he might follow.

They walked together, side by side but not arm in arm as was most often their custom, through the winding halls of Asgard until their footsteps became muffled with a thin layer of dust.  Frigga expended some magic to send a cleansing spell before them.

“Where are you taking me, mother?” he asked, curiosity overruling his anger.  Loki slipped his arm into her’s, taking from Frigga's strength as he always did.

“Hush,” she admonished fondly, “ever the impatient one.”

Their steps eventually led them into a wide chamber, a well of ancient elemental magic placid within.

“This will allow you to see him, though he will not be able to see you.  You need only place a drop of your blood within the well and speak his name.”  

She patted his arm, disentangling from him.

“You will not stay?” he asked, already forgetting her at the possibility of seeing his love.

“I do not need to look upon my son to know he hurts.  Let it be one less wound upon a mother’s love.”

Loki looked up sharply, meaning to give some comfort but the ancient scarred door was already closing in her wake.  He drew his dagger forth, calling it with his  _seidr_ for his weapon was forged of it, before pricking his thumb, pressing the flesh until a single drop fell into the well.  The liquid within flashed brightly before swirling in dusky purple, neon green and lightning blue - the colours of the magic of their mating.

“Thor Odinson,” Loki whispered, waiting for the image of his brother to resolve.  When it did not he said again, infusing his words with power, “Thor Odinson.”

He waited further, entertaining for perhaps a moment that it was some cruel trick.  But no, his mother’s heart was as kind as his was twisted. There was no room in hers for such evils.

Magic could be tricky, seeming straightforward when it was not.

_Speak his name._

Could it be that simple?

“Thor Lokisváss,” he breathed, willing the image to change as if in so doing the universe recognised the strength of their love.

Loki could have wept as it rippled, the eddies carrying outward and resolving into the beautiful face of his brother.  Had it only been one day? How could he move forward through the cruel mistress of time without the warmth of Thor to thaw his frozen heart?

He laid out on the stone rim, pillowing his hand on his arms as he watched the play of emotions on Thor’s lips.  He was speaking to some human woman, confusing her with his stilted words if the furrow of her brow was any indication.

Over the millennia, Loki had often gone to Midgard to enjoy the passing amusement humans could afford him but Thor had not and it showed in the way he bumbled around the mortal’s customs.  

“Oh brother,” Loki smiled, heart aching in equal measure as he threw his mug and shouted, ‘Another!’

The well provided no sound, but Loki did not need it, easily read the words from his brother’s lips.  He shifted his body into Thor’s form, speaking to himself in the quiet of the chamber, _“I love you, Loki.”_

It was pathetic, creating an illusion so he could hear the endearments from his own lips, his disgust made Loki dissolve the spell.

“What would he say if he could see you now?” Loki derided himself.  

He tried to relax, to take comfort in that small indulgence but seeing Thor only made him want to touch, to taste.  Longing curled its claws into his heart and tore away shards of the bruised muscle.

Loki sent a thread of magic into the pool and the images faded, leaving him with only his reflection.  Even to his own eyes, he looked haunted, a creature gutted with its own feeling.

“Ridiculous,” he scoffed as he turned away, gathering the bits of his control and wrapping his ego around himself like a fine spun robe.

He fled the chamber faster than he’d fled Jotünheim, slowing his feet only when he reached the more populated halls.  It would not do for a Prince of Asgard to be seen running like an ill-behaved child.

Inside his own chamber, he sagged against the door only to find three sets of eyes watching him, serving women.  He drew himself up, ashamed to be seen so weak.

“Leave me,” he snapped.

Two of the women abandoned their tasks immediately, shuffling out of the chamber but the third lingered.  She was a young woman and unfamiliar to him. She gathered her things but paused before him and knelt. “Forgive me, my lord, but I do not believe you wish to be alone.”

He hissed, hand raising unbidden to strike the girl down but stilled.  “And _why_ ,” he growled, “do you believe that?”

She bowed her head further.  “I can sense it.”

“There are no empaths within the palace.  I would have been informed.”

“Forgive me, my lord,” she swallowed roughly.  “I did not inform the steward of my _seidr_.”

“ _W_ _hy_ would you do that?” he asked, doubtfully.  “And if it is true, why would you confess it to me?”

The dark-haired woman looked up and met his eyes.  There was something fearless in their emerald depths, so much like his own.  For a moment he believed that she might be related in some way, but no, her features were dark skinned and rough-hewn.  They were only kin of spirit, if that.

“My skills are valuable if unknown, a boon to whomever I wish to serve.  And I confess it to you because it is you I wish to obey.”

Loki arched an eyebrow, regarding the woman.  He had never taken a personal servant, not in all his years.  He was too intemperate and none could tolerate his changing moods.  Yet this woman who claimed to see into his secret heart wished to serve him nevertheless.

“If it is true and you can feel my emotions than tell me who it is I love.”

She did not blink or hesitate, “Thor Lokisváss, Prince of Asgard.”


	9. Hvat Fremr þan At?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: What More Than That?

“My lord,” the young woman breathed, looking up at Loki with wary eyes, “please say something.”

“What is your name, girl?” Loki said tightly, fear mingling oddly with a curious sort of respect.  He could strike her dead and come up with some meaningless excuse, none would speak against the second born of Odin.  Yet she spoke his innermost secret at his command, knowing he might kill her for it.

“Öna Reyandóttir.”

“You will bind yourself to me, Öna Reyandóttir.”

Her smile was radiant as she offered up her hand.  He summoned his dagger and his  _ sedir _ , infusing the magic along the knife edge.  Blood welled in her palm as he dragged the blade over her flesh, he chanted.  As he cast the spell a green chain of magic darted between his heart and hers, the crackle of the spell flaring brightly before resolving.  His chest felt unusually heavy, but it was done.

“Rise Öna Húskarl til Loki,” he said gently, too tired after the working for his earlier temper.  He offered his hand, steadying her as she stumbled to her feet. He left her trembling as he crossed to the fireplace, folding himself into one of the large chairs.  “Pour the wine and sit with me.”

Öna moved slowly, it was to be expected.  Her  _ seidr _ was clever but not great, no doubt the curl of the spell within her had unbalanced her young body.  She would adapt.

The rattle of the pitcher against the rim of the goblet drew him from his musing, attention shifting.  

Her hands were shaking fiercely as she tried to obey.  He reached out, stilling her attempt with a gentle touch.  “Sit, child,” Loki ordered softly, “I would not have you faint.”

“I apologise, my lord,” she said even as she lowered herself.  “I should be stronger.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed.  

He frowned at her flinch, he wished he understood the way of gentleness.  He longed for Thor to guide him, even in his foolish bumbling he was always kind.  

“I am not displeased,” he tried to soothe.  “You will acclimate. Your body will become accustomed to my  _ seidr _ .”

She nodded, eyes not meeting his.

“I have no use for a servant who fears me.  I believed you clever, was I wrong?”

Öna’s head snapped up, fire gleaming in her green eyes.  “My lord would have to take the measure of my cleverness.”

A smile tugged at his lips.

She smiled back.

“You give your loyalty easily,” he remarked as he poured two goblets of wine, passing one to her.

“No, my lord, not easily.  I came here to serve you and only you.”

“I am not a good man, nor a good prince.”

“No,” Öna agreed, “but you are a great one.”

“Insolent,” Loki growled but there was no heat in it, he was too tired for it.  Binding two lives together was exhausting business and he’d done it twice in less than three days.  His magic flickered low within him, guttered by the difficult workings.

“I am as you wish me to be.”

“Indeed."  Loki took in a steadying breath.  It went against his nature to reveal and yet... if she were to serve him faithfully she would need to know.  "I am going to tell you something, now, and you will never repeat it to any but I and my beloved.”

“As my lord commands.”

Loki’s binding flared in her chest, sealing the command within her.  For as long as she was his she would carry the compulsion. It would take a  _ kunningr _ more powerful than he or his own death to unmake the bond.  “Thor Odinson is bound to me with old magics.”

Her clever eyes glimmered with understanding.  For those who kept to the old ways what Loki had wrought was greater than any marriage.

“He may command you as I, only if his command contradicts my own are you to ignore it.  And I can, of course, countermand any order of his. You will keep no secrets of his from my ears, understood?”

“As my lord commands.”  Another flare of magic.

“It is, of course, moot as he is banished to Midgard.”

“It will not always be thus,” Öna assured before sipping her wine.

“Do you possess visions as well as empathy?”

“Rarely,” she confessed.  “But I need no vision to know that Odin will forgive his beloved son.”

“No, I suppose not.”  He drank his wine deeply, pouring more for himself as he slipped deep into his own mind, thoughts lingering on Thor and the actions that lead them to that moment.  He remembered his flesh turning blue and it made him shudder.

As the day faded, Öna rose and kindled a fire.  He was pleased to see she no longer trembled, he expected the ill effects to last longer despite his words.  Loki was, after all, possessed of powerful  _ seidr _ .  She brought him food and saw his bed readied for him.  She did not speak, likely sensing his need for his own council.  

Though he hardly knew her he mused how easy it was to exist alongside her for a day, even Thor could be tedious when they were not lovemaking.  Though he would never tell her, Loki was glad she threw herself at his feet. The company was not unpleasant.

The next day, as Loki curled before the cold grate and read a book Thor had once gifted him, he summoned Öna for the first time.  Pressing a finger against his heart, he spoke her true name infused with  _ seidr _ .  Minutes later a gentle knock sounded at his chamber door.

“Enter,” Loki said, not looking up from his book.

“My lord,” Öna panted, bowing deeply.  “You have called for me?”

He picked up the simple wooden box, holding it out to her.  He did not rise, nor did he look up from his tome.

Loki’s hand bobbed as she lifted the weight from his palm, the  _ snick _ of the lock the only indication she had opened it.  “My lord,” Öna breathed and,  _ damn him _ , he snuck a glance.  The look of joy on her face tugged a smile into the corner of his mouth.  

She was pleased, and he was pleased to see her thus.

She pulled the silver collar from the nestle of velvet and offered it up to him even as she knelt.  “Would you place it upon me, my lord?”

“Am I your husband to put jewellery on your skin?” he teased, waving her off but he did secretly enjoy as she snapped the leather strap around her skin.  The silver disc in the centre held his crest, by wearing it she could speak on his behalf. It was important for one, bound such as she, to have it.

She could speak with his authority, move more freely than most servants and none would dare her harm for fear of the Einherjar.

"Thank you, my lord," she breathed, reverent at his gift.  "I will serve you always."

~~~

His good humour, while quiet and introverted, lasted but three days.  On the third - five since Thor had been banished - Loki woke from dreams of Thor’s blood spilt on Jotün snow.  He barely dressed before he was flying down the halls, near empty in the early hours. The silk of his robe came unbound, flying about his pale skin as the soft bottoms clung to him.

He dashed into the well chamber and dropped his blood into the pool.  He choked on the name of his beloved but the well obeyed, rippling outward to show him Thor alive and hale.

“ _ Kærr _ ,” he whimpered, collapsing onto the stone rim.  He could not swallow the tears down, nor dash them away as they flooded from his eyes.  “Thor…”

He watched in silence as his brother drank around a fire, cheeks heated with warmth and drink.  Thor’s eyes glittered with mirth and, for a moment, Loki was glad Thor was not alone… that he’d made friends.  Though the prince never truly lacked for companions.

The golden light danced across his cheekbones, the hard-hewn edge of his jaw.  Loki remembered the feel of Thor's beard under his lips, the soft slash of Thor’s mouth as it covered his own.

“My heart,” he whimpered, pressing his forehead to the cold stone, wishing it was his brother’s chest that he might hear the steady beat of the muscle.  “I dreamed of your death. I saw you fall and I cannot hold you to banish it.”

He shuddered at the memory, the Jotünar’s icy blade piercing Thor’s chest plate.  

When the warrior tipped his head up... 

...he bore Loki’s face. 

Panic twisted and welled up within him, stealing his breath as he panted and tried to catch it back.   _ Breathe, _ he implored himself even as his chest screamed,  _ breathe. _

Beyond the swell of his own tears, Thor’s face swam in the pool.  His gaze was soft, friendly as he looked at the human woman.

Loki recognised the sketch of Yggdrasil even before Thor completed it, the child’s lesson was perhaps all the simple-minded Midgardians could understand of the wonder of magic and science.  Still, the young woman seemed beside herself with excitement, her eyes warm where they lingered on Thor’s mouth.

Loki scoffed even as his chest clenched.  Surely, Thor would turn away?  Yet, Thor did not, his eyes soft as they lingered.

“Don’t - “ he implored the vision.  “I beg of you - “

She leaned in a slow slide toward Loki's damnation.  He watched, unable to look away, as Thor’s gaze flickered to her mouth and caught there, some word he could not decipher murmuring from his lips.  Then, they touched.

Loki spun, stumbling away from the well, away from the icy heartache piercing and splintering through his chest.  That monstrous darkness that had banished under Thor’s hands, under Thor’s affection roared from its cage within Loki’s heart.   _ Seidr _ swirled, unbidden, from his hands and shattered the vile pool of magic.

The shards of its remnants flew, slicing across Loki’s exposed skin but he could not feel it past the gaping ruin Thor had made of his heart.

_ “You bastard,” _ he hissed to his absent brother.  “Did I mean nothing to you?”

Loki’s swirled in a flurry of green silk, broken stone carving into his bare feet and drawing blood to pool amongst the eddies of the well's magical waters.

“Oh,” he sneered, “well  _ played, _ brother.  I did not think you capable of such cruelty but you have brought me low.”

His power curled uselessly around his hands, seeking a victim where there was none to be had.

“I see now your game,  _ clever, indeed. _  And they call me the God of Lies?  I would never raise my hand against you so long as I was so hopelessly  _ infatuated _ .  You could even have your women… it would be simple to convince me you  _ had _ to lie with them so that none might suspect.

“Did you know I was untouched?  Had you guessed it? Could you read on my foolish face how hopelessly besotted I was?”

He whimpered, the sound coming out choked as he collapsed to the ground.  The ancient magical water soaking into his clothes with his own blood. Loki’s trembling hands buried in his sable locks, tugging sharply as a dark calm settled over him.

“I will ruin you, Odinson,” he vowed, his voice oddly hollow.  Broken. He sounded broken. “What pain you have visited upon me I will lay at your feet tenfold.  I will unravel your world as you’ve unravelled mine. You will beg for mercy before the end… and find none.  

“You have unmade me, Thor Odinson.  I am vengeance reborn.”

~~~

Loki felt cold.  Frozen to his very essence as he rose from the chamber.  Outside its doors, he sealed it with magic then formed stone over the entrance so that none might ever find it.  It was foolishness. The well was destroyed.

Yet the shattered fragments spoke of Loki’s weakness, his foolish heart.

Locking the chamber away was largely symbolic yet it gave him strength; let him sweep more  _ seidr _ over his body to hide the wounds, his royal garments forming from the remnants of his sleep clothes until he looked much like he did each day.

As he moved through the halls, now dotted with servants beginning their day, he wondered how they could treat him as they always had.  Could they not see he was changed? Reformed in an instant?

He was different - as if the Jotünar’s touch had put their icy magic inside him but only with Thor’s betrayal had it found purchase.

Jotün.

Loki’s feet turned left when right would have led him to his chambers and he descended past endless guards into the bowels of his father’s castle.  It was not until he stood before the doors which lead to Odin’s trophy room that Loki realised where he was going.

Stilling himself, he pushed his way into the chamber beyond.  The Casket, on its pedestal at the end, seemed to whisper to him.  Each step as he descended increasing the volume of its siren’s song.

He walked the length of the room, the staccato of his booted feet giving cadence to the murmurs of the device until he stood above it, staring down into its frozen depths.  A shiver went through him as he reached for its handles, fingers curling around protrusions.

A terrible warmth rushed through him.  A sense of rightness. Of merciless, endless dark.

“Loki, no,” Odin’s voice cut through the chamber.

Blue swirled up his skin as it had on Jotünheim.  “Am I cursed?” he breathed, for how could he not be?  Everything he was, everything he felt was a lie...

“No,” Odin said, but there was no comfort in the word.  He did not even sound as if he believed it, himself.

He lowered the casket back to its pedestal, uncurling his hands.  The magic within seemed to call out to him, to implore him back. It was like nothing he’d ever felt.  “What am I?”

“You are my son.”

Of course.  Of course, Odin, with his many lies, could not just  _ say _ .  He was much like Thor.

“What more than that?” 

Silence - like the bated breath of some great beast - dragged between them.

He knew, had known since Jotünheim.  The cold monster within him was no figment, no imagining of his mind.  It was the darkness in his blood.

“The Casket wasn’t the only thing you took from Jotünheim that day, was it?”

Odin swallowed, blinked, a crack in his armour that Loki had never seen.  Loki saw his father’s weakness laid before him, ready to exploit but he did not plunge in the knife.  Whatever that man was to him… Loki loved him still, could not break him on a whim of distrust.

“...Laufey’s son…”

“Laufey’s son,” Loki repeated.   _ Laufey’s prize. _  He looked, then, at the man he called father… so aged… so weary… and knew he did not tell the whole of it.  Loki may have been the God of Lies but Odin ever held his secrets close.  _ “Why? _  You were knee-deep in Jotün blood.  Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child.”

Loki knew it for the lie it was.  “You took me for a purpose, what was it?”

More silence.  Oh, if he could rip the truth from the Allfather’s lips.

Loki screamed, “Tell me!”

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace... through you. But those plans no longer matter.”

It was close enough to the truth but not the whole of it.  Still… “So I am no more than another stolen relic? Locked up here until you might have use of me?”

Odin sighed, “Why must you twist my words?”

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning,” Loki urged, clawing deeper.  Bleed Odin's heart until he spoke the whole of it, no matter the cost.

“You are my son, I only wanted to protect you from the truth.”

“What truth is that, Allfather?  Th-th-that I am the monster that parents tell their children about at night?” he hissed, encroaching upon the King’s space, pushing with his  _ seidr _ , making Odin feel his  _ hurt _ .

Never had it been more true when he said Thor was much like their father - _Thor's_ __ father.  They cared not.  Loved not.

What did it matter that their careless games carved wounds into Loki’s heart?  What did it matter that their lies were so much crueler than his own? He was but a Jotün monster, an orphan.

“It all makes sense now… why you favoured Thor all these years.”  Loki called his magic, letting it fill the chamber in his rage, letting it lash and crush and push the air from the room.  “Because no matter how much you claimed to ‘love’ me - you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!”

His father lifted a trembling hand even as he went to turn away,  _ seidr _ a tempest around him.

“Loki…” Odin breathed.  The king's feet went from under him and he crumpled to the steps.

Loki’s anger vanished and in its wake left a gaping maw of pain, of fear.

“Father,” he hissed, rushing to the fallen king’s side.  He threaded his long pale fingers in his father’s golden digits, marvelling how different they were.  And yet… and yet this was his father… the man who’d raised him.

“Please,” his whimpered, pulling the man into his arms.  Golden robes pooled around his dark green. “Please father, don’t leave me.  Please. I can’t do this… I…”

His father was insensate, lost once more to Odinsleep.

Loli swallowed his tears, froze the shattered remains of his heart and called, “Guards!”


	10. Sá Óvættr Inni

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: The Monster Within

“Your father would be proud,” said Frigga as she placed Gungnir in his hand.  The magic of the spear seemed strange, foreign.

‘What father is that?’ he did not say, did not ask.

It was enough that his rage had forced the King into Odinsleep, enough that the burden of rule fell to him.  

How he did not want it.  

He knew what the rumours were, had heard them whispered when those uttering them thought he could not hear.   _ Loki had Thor banished.  Loki, trickster, had manipulated Odin into casting their beloved Prince aside. _

He had never wanted the throne.  What poor consolation to Odin’s respect, Thor’s love?  But he could not summon Thor home, could not pretend he hadn’t seen the warrior’s betrayal of their vows.

No, he did not want to be king.  But Thor - cruel, selfish,  _ hateful _ Thor - he did.  So Loki would keep it from him.  He would end the impending war with Jotünheim.  He would be a good ruler. Did it matter if he loathed it?

Of course, if the Asgardians ever discovered what Loki was… what he’d always been…

_ Laufey’s son. _

_ The monster that parents tell their children about at night. _

_ Frost giant. _

_ Beast. _

_ Evil. _

As the chamber closed behind his mother - or rather the woman who pretended to be his mother - Loki’s hand flew out,  _ seidr  _ and rage shattering the mirror.

“You hurt,” Öna said, lithe form slipping into his chamber.  It was not a question and Loki did not answer it.

She moved forward slowly as if she expected him to strike her.   _ Monster, indeed. _

Cupping his hand in her smaller ones, she cradled his bleeding fingers.  “Will you not heal yourself, my lord?”

“No,” he muttered, pulling away and curling before the roaring fire.  A thread of  _ seidr _ gutted the illumination, leaving them in shadowy darkness.

Flexing his knuckles, Loki opened the wounds even as they tried to close, watching blood trickle down his pale fingers.  Even then, knowing what he was, he could not see the Frost Giant beneath his skin. 

Odin had cast his spell cleverly, Loki could do little better.

“Will you lift Thor’s banishment?” Öna asked as if she had no opinion even as she began to sweep away bits of glass.

“Thor can rot on Midgard for the rest of his days,” Loki sneered, calling forth his dagger and opening his cuts a bit more.  He still felt nothing. Had not felt anything since his father had collapsed and little enough, then. “I wish him well of it.”

Loki dropped the glamour, the change of his clothes remaining but the wounds caused by the well’s shattering visible once more on his skin.  He had felt their stinging ache all day, a reminder of his weakness.

“My lord,” Öna gasped, coming to kneel at his side.  “What has happened?” She reached for him but he swatted her hand away.

Loki hissed, “Do not  _ presume _ , housecarl, that you can be so familiar with my person.”

“My lord,” she swallowed roughly, leaning away, “forgive me.”

His eyes turned back to the dancing flames, eyes burning with the radiating heat of the flames.  “Take this,” he growled, handing the staff to her. She took it with trembling hands but leaned it against the edge of the mantle.

“Loki… sire,” Öna said softly from his elbow.  “I must speak to you…”

“Then speak,” he said coolly, waving his hand to the chair beside him.

She settled herself on its edge, spreading her skirts out around her.  “Will you shield us from Heimdall’s gaze, my lord?”

Loki sighed, put-upon but whispered the spell.  The odd soundless bubble put pressure on his ears, he swallowed to banish it.

“I believe the Warriors Three and Sif know that you helped the Jotün into the palace.”  

Loki’s gaze twitched in surprise but he did not interrupt her.  

“If it is your intention to recall Thor - “

“It isn’t.”

“They make seek to fetch him without your consent, my king.”

Loki drew a deep breath, casting his glamour once more as he stood.  “That, I cannot allow.”

~~~

When Thor looked up at him, the deep blue of his eyes connecting with Loki’s there was a tug in his chest over the mark, a swirl of Thor’s grief in his own heart.  Loki thought he felt, standing there before his not-brother, a glimmer of love before he shut it out. He would feel no more for the Prince of Lies, hear no more pretty words adorned with the cruel edge of deceit.

“Loki,” Thor breathed, hopeful.  Oh, how the warrior could dissemble.  “What are you doing here?”

Loki forced his face into something like compassion, “I had to see you.”  He winced at his words, too close to the truth, too near to his heart. Loki knew, at that moment, were Thor to confess his infidelity, to beg Loki’s forgiveness he would grant it.

After only a few days of separation, his body ached like a sickness to hold Thor in his arms.

“I am glad to see you,” Thor ventured, words hesitant.

“Are you?”

“Why would I not be?”

Loki sighed, heart breaking anew.  No, of course, Thor would not confess it.  He would ever twist the knife as if he never cared.

“Does father know you’re h - “

“Father is dead.”

Thor reeled back in his chair, staring at Loki in stunned silence.

“Your banishment, the threat of a new war… it was too much for him to bear.  The burden of the throne has fallen to me, now.”

“You will make a good king,” Thor said firmly.

Loki swallowed his own mocking scoff, his desire to scream in Thor’s face that he never wanted the throne… only Thor’s love… only that.

“Can I come home?  We could - unless you - “

Of course, Thor would want him  _ then _ , like some sort of lesser prize.  “The truce with Jotünheim is conditional upon your exile,” Loki lied.

“But couldn’t we - “

“Mother has forbidden your return.”

“I understand,” Thor said somberly, a tear sliding free from his ocean blue eyes.  

“This is goodbye, brother.  I am so sorry.”

“No…” Thor choked.  “No,  _ kaerr, _ I am sorry.  I’ve failed you.”

Loki turned, preparing to leave.

“Loki - “ Thor whimpered and, damn him that he could not resist turning back.  “Will you kiss me goodbye?”

Loki had prepared for such a request, had a thousand excuses as to why he could not and yet… and  _ yet _ \- 

Loki stepped forward, Thor rising and wrapping him in his arms.  He shuddered at the touch, already angry at his own  _ weakness _ .  Norns, he should be tearing Thor apart, eviscerating him from his very insides and yet he could do nothing but lose himself in the gentle press of Thor’s kiss.

He pulled away quickly, but not quickly enough for the monster inside him to rage.

Turning, so Thor could not see his face lest the ruse fall apart he muttered, “We will not see each other again.”

“Live well, my heart.”

Loki swept from the room without answering, a single tear tracking down his cheek.

~~~

“You will seal the Bifrost,” Loki commanded, rage riding him like a storm’s edge, “no one comes or goes without my command.”

“As you say, my king,” Heimdall said quickly, flatly.

Loki was spoiling for a fight, longed to challenge the gatekeeper directly but he knew the man saw much… too much.  He had not remembered to conceal himself from the man’s gaze.

“You will speak of nothing you saw.”

Heimdall’s dark head tilted to the side, canting as if listening to some distant song.  “As you command, my king.”

Loki turned to leave but froze on the threshold of the Bifrost chamber.  “You were the Gatekeeper the night the war with Jotünheim ended.”

It wasn’t a question but Heimdall answered, “I was.”

“And what did you think, Guardian, when your king brought the son of the enemy into his home?”

The man’s golden eyes met Loki’s unflinchingly.  “I did not approve.”

“No doubt.”  Loki sighed, not turning to look at the man.  “All those times I ran here, Heimdall, to hide in his chamber when my brother’s friend spoke cruel words?  When the people whispered ‘trickster’ behind my back? When I was but a shadow beside Thor in my father’s regard and not once…  _ not once _ did you say.”

Loki’s voice cracked with the sudden swell of emotion and he  _ loathed _ himself for it.  First, falling into his own weaknesses in Thor’s arms and then to lose himself before Heimdall… the first to teach him betrayal… Was their no humiliation he would not stoop to?

“I loved you, once.”

“I know,” Heimdall’s voice echoed oddly through the chamber but Loki heard no emotion in it.

“Did you ever…?   _ Norns, _ ” he hissed, “was it all for  _ him? _  Was every moment of sympathy just to watch me for the All-Father?”

“I served my king.”

Loki swallowed, muttering the words back to himself, “You served your king.”  He spun and let Heimdall see him for the first time since that day, so many centuries before, when Heimdall had betrayed him.  Tears flowed from Loki’s eyes but even he could not say if they were tears of pain or tears of rage. “When I lay with Thor...?” The Gatekeeper winced.  “Did you serve your king then? Did you reveal my secret shame?”

“No.”

“Why not, Heimdall?  Why did Odin not come for my blood?  I thought, perhaps it was loyalty to a prince but… no… I was  _ never _ that.   _ Why?” _

Heimdall… blinked.

Loki had  _ never _ seen Heimdall blink.

“Your pain is my fault.  I should have never - “

“Should never have, what?  Pretended to care? It’s a little late for regret, Gatekeeper,” Loki sneered.  “I had  _ no one. _  No one but you.  No one has ever loved Loki, God of Lies.”  Then, in a small voice, he managed, “You were my friend.”

“I was.  I could be again, Loki - “

“Do. Not.  Do not address me so familiar, Heimdall.  Odin may have allowed it but I will not.” Loki sighed, pressing cruel fingers into his aching head. “You will forget we spoke of this.”

Heimdall gave a crisp salute.  “As my king commands.”

Loki swept from chamber, fury and old wounds churning in his gut and beneath it all the pain of missing Thor.  Thor who he should hate… but all he felt was the ache of his absence, a burn lancing through the mark on his chest and into his very soul.

Unbidden, his feet carried him to his brother's chamber and - at seeing the bed where he’d laid in such bliss - fury incinerated him.  His magic came to his fingertips and he whirled a force spell at the mirror, shattering it before lifting chairs and smashing them with unnatural strength.

“Do you see me Heimdall?” he raged, the wood splintering and crumbling.  His hand slipped and a large shard of wood embedded itself in his hands, wounds on his knuckles cracking open and bleeding from under his glamour.

“Was I nothing?” he shouted as he tore books and treasures from the shelves, shredding them in his hands.  “Was I nothing to any of you?”

An Einherjar opened the door to the full force of Loki’s fury.  “Get out!” he hissed.

“My king,” the man stumbled back.

“Out!”

He lifted one of Thor’s practice swords, the weapon he used before Odin gifted him with his hammer, and brought it down on the half-empty shelves beating and striking until there was no strength left in his arms and he collapsed into a sprawl against the ruins of his brother’s chamber.

Loki did not know how long he was huddled there, in the deepening darkness and chill of his brother’s chambers before Öna found him, her gentle fingers and hands guiding him from the floor.

“Did they ever love me?” he asked, burying his tear-streaked face in her hair.  “Was I ever anything but this monster?”

“Breathe, my king,” she soothed as she lowered him in front of his fireplace, already dancing with warmth and flames.  The door between his chambers and his brother's stood open, hanging drunkenly from the hinge and mocking his futile anger.

“I don’t want to feel anymore,” he confessed.  That coldness was spreading through him once more… maybe it was his Jotün blood or maybe it was some monstrosity all his own… he could not say.

“You need rest, my lord,” Öna cajoled, “and food.”

“No food.”

“Rest then?”

Loki nodded, wearily.  He let Öna help him up, peeling the clothes from him and tucking him into his bed.  She perched herself on the edge, humming as she passed the healing stones over his numerous injuries.  He did not flinch nor make any sound when she pulled the monstrously large splinter from his flesh. She hummed as she crushed the healing stone in her hand, it’s magic used up.

“Stay,” he commanded as Öna moved to leave.

The young woman nodded her understanding, undressing down to her underclothes and tucking herself into his bed.  He closed the distance between them, pillowing his head on her shoulder.

“Come morning,” he demanded softly, “you will leave and we will never speak of this again.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You will clean up my brother’s chambers.  No one must know. See that the Einherjar keeps his silence.”

“As you command.”  She hummed gently, the sound lulling him into sleep’s cruel embrace.  “Rest.”

He meant to mock her, to drive a wedge between them so, even she, would not care for him but before he could find the words, sleep claimed him.


	11. Kaldr um Íss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say 'hi' in the comments if you came here from tumblr or if you've come to find solace from the shit show that was the new movie!
> 
> I promise there will be a happy ending!! And love conquers all! And babies! Thorki babies!
> 
> Chapter Title: Cold as Ice

Loki blinked opened his eyes, a warm summer’s day beating down onto his shoulders as he walked the craggy path to the abandoned temple where he and Thor had once made love.  He felt strange, the light swirling around him in eddies as if he could see the very foundations of the magic of the universe. He was nearly naked, barefoot and dressed only in a tight cling of leathers.  Over his heart, the mark upon his flesh glowed and ached.

_ “Kaerr?” _ a familiar voice said incredulously.

Stepping from the deep shadows of the temple, a beloved golden-skinned man resolved.

Thor.

Loki didn’t hesitate to fly into his arms, to be swept up by his strength.

“What are you - ?” Thor began only to have his words silenced by the desperate press of Loki’s lips.  His dearest returned the kiss with an eager desperation… almost a longing.

Longing because - Loki pulled away, gasping.  “How are you here?” Thor should be upon Midgard, should be in the arms of his lady love.  Loki looked down into his brother’s face, wet with tears of happiness and his heart broke anew.  “This is a dream.”

“If it is a dream,” Thor murmured, “then it is a happy one.”

Loki, still perched in Thor’s arms, buried his face into his brother’s shoulder.  “And all the more cruel for it. When I awake you will still be gone… still be - “ No.  He wouldn’t invoke the memory of  _ that woman _ in their place, illusion though it might be.  

“Shhh, brother,” Thor soothed like the romantic fool that lingered in Loki’s memory despite the cruelties he’d suffered.   _ “Lak elska ér, kaerr.” _

Loki choked on a sob, pressing his tears into Thor’s hair that smelled of grass and sunshine.  “So much has happened,” he muttered to dream-Thor. Loki sat up enough in his brother’s arms to cradle his face, to beg, “Pretend you love me in truth.  Let me have the madness in my own mind if only to soothe the hole you have left.”

“Loki,” Thor said softly, fingertips brushing back the long curls of his dark hair.  “I have always loved you.  _ Norns _ , even in my own mind I am full of guilt.”

“Foolish Prince,” Loki said, bumping their noses together, “it is  _ my _ dream.”

“If you say.”  With a frown, Thor set him down only to pull him against the soft skin of his muscled chest.  “I miss you, Loki. I have been impetuous in your absence but I will make whatever amends you require of me when we are together again.”

“When do you imagine that will be?” Loki snapped, angry for not allowing himself a moment of relief from the eternity of Thor’s banishment, Thor’s betrayal.

Thor shrugged beneath his cheek, casual confidence Loki had forgotten he missed.  “We live a long time,  _ kaerr _ .  I have to believe the turning of Yggdrasil will return us to one another.”

Loki wound his arms around Thor’s waist, holding as close as his strength allowed.  His heart settled into a pulsing ache within his chest. Loki knew all he would have was the torture of such illusions.  That Thor, despite his dream-self’s foolish confidence, would never walk beside him, laugh beside him again. Thor had chosen his lover and Loki would suffer the consequences of his fickle heart.  Yet he longed, craved to press golden skin to pale flesh and forget that his soul was cleaved in twain and given to one so monstrously unworthy. “Lie with me, my prince. I wish to remember your touch.”

Thor’s arms were blissfully strong as they lifted him off the ground, Loki wrapping his long legs around the warrior’s strong hips.

Biting into his lover’s mouth, Loki dragged vicious kisses from his brother’s lips, hurting and loving in the same moments, with the same touches until Thor pulled away.  “My love,” Thor breathed, resting his head against Loki’s collarbone. “May I mark your skin?”

“Yes,” Loki choked, hips grinding in a mindless rhythm, demanding and seeking.

Thor’s sharp teeth sunk into his shoulder, biting viciously before sucking at the mark.  Lowering him gently to the ground, Thor began tugging at Loki’s trousers, freeing him from the clothes.

“By the roots of Yggdrasil, I have missed you, my love,” Thor sighed, all affectionate reverence as he skimmed his calloused hand down the centre of Loki’s body before palming the hard length of him.  Loki arched into the touch as his brother kissed his way down pale flesh leaving small sucking bruises in his wake.

When Thor reached his cock, he did not hesitate to swallow down the length of him, worshipping every inch of his body even those which had once given him pause.  Thor was gentle as he sheathed himself, they needed no slick within a dream, Loki gasping as tears of bittersweet heartache slipped down his face.

Thor gentled him, Thor soothed him, kissing away the moisture and promising… promising endlessly that they would always be together.

“Don’t stop,” Loki begged, shattering apart.  His heart was a broken, bleeding thing. “Don’t stop, Thor.  Don’t leave me.”

“I will come back,” Thor promised, kissing the mark about Loki’s heart.  “I will always come for you. I will always find you.”

Their bodies arched in an increasingly haphazard rhythm, both more interested in being near then reaching the end of their coupling.  But, as with all things, eventually, it did end. Loki gasped in surprise as his release washed over him, Thor’s moments behind.

He expected to wake up, that his orgasm would vault him into consciousness but Thor remained above, solid and nuzzling into his temple.

“I love you,” Thor murmured.  “I am sorry for my weaknesses.  I promise… I swear… if you will but forgive me…”

“Be silent, Thor.  Just… just hold me you fool man.”

How long they laid there, in the strange time of dreams he could not say but, eventually, his eyes fluttered shut and when he opened them again he was in his bed once more.  He howled in pain and then, in rage.

~~~

“Kill him,” Laufey said, voice as craggy and dark as his homeland.

Loki grinned, a sadistic smile before teasing, “After all I’ve done for you?  Did you not call me ‘your prize’?”

The Jotün tipped his head like some great bird considering a worm but Loki was no worm.  “You are a prize no longer, bound as you are. Can produce no offspring for one who is worthy.”

“What madness do you speak, Laufey-King?”

“Stupid prince,” Laufey spat.  “You know not even what you are.  Tell me, runtling, do you see any women here?”

Loki let his gaze dart around the barren crags but did not answer.

“My people,” Laufey said sweeping down from his throne, “are of one sex.  We may sire or we may dame. For one as small as you I suspect you would only sire for a giant’s child in your belly would split you in two, little pretend-Asgardian.”

Laufey caressed down Loki's face but Loki felt no cold.

“You are a few years before your quickening before any seed would find root in you but then… then I would be careful how you lay with your princeling.”

“How do you know about  _ that _ ?” Loki hissed.

“Oh, I know a great many things.  The Asgardians are not the only ones who are gifted in magic.  Fárbauti, your dame, is one such. I had high aspirations for you, Loki, that you might snatch defeat from the Asgard and deliver it to your true people.  But to cleave yourself to the prince… now I can never be certain of your loyalty.”

Loki laughed, laughed until his stomach ached.  “Oh, Laufey you are a fool but I did not come here to press wisdom from you council as one would press wine from a grape.”

“Then why have you come?”

“I want your help killing Odin.”

“Oh?” Laufey said with a grin.  “Perhaps you are of use to me, after all.”

~~~

Loki returned from Jotünheim with his mind swirling.  Was it possible? Could he be carrying Thor’s child…? No, there had been no deception in Laufey when he said Loki was years too young for such a thing but…

But he  _ could _ .

Loki stood before his mirror, that one having survived his latest fit of peak, and tried to imagine his belly swollen with child.  With  _ Thor’s _ child.

If that were true… he could draw Thor back to him,  _ make _ Thor love him once more.

“No,” he growled to himself.  “No, I will not debase myself for  _ him _ .”

Loki rubbed a hand down his face, fleeing the image in the mirror and sinking carelessly into the chair by the fire.  He wondered if he would dream of Thor again. He had decided to allow himself that weakness, to not fight the dreams of pleasure he’d had nightly for days despite the mess he often woke up covered in.

“My Lord - “ Öna cried as she burst into his chambers.

“Speak.”

“The warrior’s three - “

“What of them?” he growled, hating how they plotted behind his back.  It was no matter, they were toothless in their imprisonment.

“They go to Midgard!”

Loki stood, sweeping to his balcony which overlooked the Bifrost only to see Heimdall walking away from his post a moment before the bridge crackled to life.

“You bastard,” Loki hissed.

He was in a rage when he swept into the throne room, Öna quick on his heels.  

“Find me Heimdall!  I want him in  _ chains,”  _ he growled, anger flooding him like waves from an ocean.

Would the humiliations never cease?

Odin never loved him, never respected him.  The One-Eyed fool only ever saw the Jotün blood coursing through his veins.  All he ever wanted was Odin’s affections, to be held warmly like Thor was so often.

He’d given up on that dream so long ago that it had the tinge of a child’s foolish wish but why was he a fool for it?  Why did he have to give up on the dream of his father’s love?

So, abandoned and constantly beset by the teasing of his brother and the gaggle of sycophants ever at his heels he ran, hid constantly in the Bifrost chamber.  Heimdall had been kind, speaking to him with the love he had shed so many tears for, yet never received from the king.

But Heimdall never loved him, only took advantage of a young boy’s loneliness to spy for Odin.  To make sure he was not a Jotün monster in truth.

Then Thor, radiant, bombastic, foolish,  _ arrogant _ Thor.  Thor who had scooped up all the shattered pieces of Loki’s heart and held him like he was something precious, shared jokes and time and…

The dream-memory of Thor’s kisses weighed heavy on his heart.

More foolish, he, for hoping they were anything  _ real... _ that magic might have brought their dreams together.  That Thor might really love him still.

Yet Loki remembered the longing on his brother’s face as he leaned toward the human woman.  He had ever loved them - women and mortals - more.

Had he been but a dalliance?  A warm body with which to wile away the long moments of eternity?

“Let them burn,” Loki growled, twisting tears into vicious anger, “let them all burn.”

He sent the Einherjar from the chamber and summoned the Destroyer.  As it stepped through the Bifrost he linked his mind with its… awareness.  It wasn’t a living thing nor a spirit able to reason but it did have some measure of understanding.

He gave it a single command… to mete destruction upon the human settlement and those who would defy him.

Loki could not deny there was some pleasure as the creation destroyed the conveyances in the human’s street before facing the Warrior’s Three and Sif.  They had been responsible for some of the deepest childhood hurts, always extracising him with their unclever barbs. It was them, with the cruelty of children, who’d taught him to never show his pain.

Still, he could not help appreciating their skills; at least their tactics were sound… if foolhardy.

But more than wishing to see The Warrior’s Three and Sif brought low… he longed to see  _ that woman’s _ death.  Let her die in agony.  Let Thor know the stupidity of giving his heart to one so short-lived.

When Thor stepped before the Destroyer, walked into the arms of his own death Loki's mind remembered, unbidden…

He remembered every smile, every embrace, every tear they shed together for the finality of the fate that lingered before them.  He remembered Thor’s  _ love. _

“Brother,” Loki and Öna heard through the echo of the throne room, the Destroyer linked back to the seat of power, “for whatever I have done to wrong you, whatever I have done to lead you to do this, I am sorry.  Take my life, and know I will never return to Asgard… it was always yours to claim.”

Warmth spread through Loki’s chest, for the first time since he’d stood on Midgard, he could feel his brother’s regard…  _ his heart. _   They touched, soul to soul and he felt everything... the great wide expanse of Thor's love.  A sob tore free, quickly stifled.

He reached out and turned off the Destroyer.

Loki must have inherited his sense of dramatic timing biologically for suddenly, Laufey was there, caving in the doors on the throne room and pushing his way in with a half-dozen Jotünar.

“Seize him,” Laufey declared, eyes shining like hot coals.  “Claim my prize.”

“Run,” Loki hissed.  Öna hesitated for only a moment before fleeing, her sandaled feet carrying her in the direction of the Queen’s chamber.

Then it was just him and his sire.

~~~

In hindsight, Loki had been overconfident in his anger… six Jotün plus the king, himself, was beyond his skill of deception to conquer though four fell to his blades before the remaining two grasped him tightly, stripping him of his weapons.

When Laufey sat upon the throne, draping his scarred blue body over the gold in a garish display, he immediately became aware of the Destroyer… of its mission.  Loki knew because Loki’s mind was still connected though no longer able to give orders.

He saw as the automata awakened, Thor huddled with his friends and the pathetic humans.  It was his brother who realised the danger first, who flung himself headlong into the path of the creation, who was smote with a single well-timed blow.

“Noooo!” Loki screamed, hearing the strike, seeing it in his mind but also  _ feeling _ , feeling the slow diminishing of Thor’s life in his very  _ soul _ .

Loki drew in his  _ seidr -   _ from where he knew not - only that suddenly he was full of power, of a righteous rage he had never known.  His blades came easily to his hands as he knocked the Jotünar off-balance, jumping between them like two closely positioned walls before slitting both their throats with a sweep of his knives.

Laufey, undefended, tried to call his own magic but it was too late.  Loki jumped into his sire’s lap and plunged his blade deep into the giant’s heart.

“For daring to touch him,” Loki growled, snapping at Laufey’s neck, “I will kill you, all you love and every Jotün that  _ dares _ draw breath.”

Laufey gurgled, hands flailing in the throes of death, trying to grasp the dagger plunged deep into his heart.

“Any who survive will be homeless and they will curse the day you sired your little  _ runtling. _  Your little  _ prize. _ ”

Loki twisted the knife and Laufey went still with death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaerr - beloved  
> Lak elska ér, kaerr - I love you, darling


	12. Um Andlát

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: In Death
> 
> Old Norse:  
> heimskr vísi - foolish prince

There was a cold certainty riding his body as he rose, hands soaked in the blood of the man that had created him.  

The Jotün would die,  _ all _ Jotün would die for taking Thor’s life. 

He swept from the chamber, feeling a distant ripple in his awareness but he pushed it away.  There was no room in his heart for anything but vengeance, whatever called to his blood… it mattered not.

The darkness twisted up inside of him, demanding, urging him forward.  Urging him toward vengeance… toward death.

It took but a moment to mount Draumr without a saddle, he had learned the way of it long ago, and to turn the mount toward the Bifrost bridge.  Bifask looked up with his dark eyes as he nudged his gelding out of the stables.

It was foolishness that, seeing the mount, made his heart twist.  The beast would never see Thor again, either.

He rode with all haste, through the ancient twisting roads of the city and out, out along the Rainbow Bridge toward the destruction of the Jotün people.

Foolish though it might be, he was grateful when Heimdall was not at his post.  Perhaps the Einherjar really  _ had _ put him in chains.

No matter.  He would forgive the old man, perhaps find him some plot of land to till until time claimed his life.  For all he couldn’t trust him, his heart still ached to love the man who’d befriended him so young.

The darkness demanded vengeance, Heimdall’s blood… Heimdall’s humiliation but he pushed it aside.  There would be time for such concerns later.

But first…

Loki dismounted on the run, turning Draumr back toward the palace and smacking his rump.  He would not have the beast harmed. Even for that, he was weak.

Entering the Bifrost chamber, Loki swept immediately to the controls, facing the Bridge towards the planet that had created him and twisting the hilt.  He stepped away and called the Casket of Ancient Winters to his hands. Opening it, he heard the dark call of the Winter magics to his blood, watched in fascination as the  _ seidr _ encased the sword in a thick block of ice.

“Loki!” Thor screamed, voice carrying over the din of the unspooling magic.

He was mad, indeed.  Had he always been thus or had Thor’s death snapped the last fragile thread of his sanity?

“All these years,” Loki mused sadly to the vision of his dead love, looking at the branching of white light, like lightning bottled into veins, “no one thought to use it as a weapon.”  If he cracked open Thor’s soul, would it look like that?

He jumped down from the pedestal, landing in front of the illusion.

“Loki,” Thor growled, gripping him by the arms and shaking him.  Loki felt the thrum he’d ignored before flare inside him, the recognition of his soulmate’s nearness.  “Stop this madness!”

The darkness in his mind gutted, went briefly silent at his love’s touch before  _ screaming _ to step away.

“You - “ he stuttered… stumbled.  “You’re  _ alive _ .”

“No thanks to you!  You tried to  _ kill me.” _

“I - “ Loki began but stopped.  He  _ had _ , for all he’d changed his mind.  

Loki’s hand gripped around Gungnir, swinging it to make contact with his brother’s jaw.  The god of thunder reeled back, not expecting the blow.

For all he was glad his brother still drew breath, it changed nothing.  He’d walk the path his feet were upon. He’d bring Jotünheim to  _ heel. _  Then, they could deal with Thor’s lies, with Thor’s  _ betrayal. _

Thor recovered quickly but, surprisingly, did not lunge for Loki.  He raised Mjolnir, bringing the cleaving end of it down onto the gathered ice.

“You can’t stop it.  The Bifrost will build until it rips Jotünheim apart!”

Thor spun to him, eyes flashing… demanding.  “Why have you done this?”

_ For you. _  Oh, how he wanted to say those words, to hold out his hand for solace.  But Thor would never understand. Thor didn’t walk around with a snake coiled around his heart, venomous fangs sunk deep into tender flesh.

As if summoned, the dark voices cried out for blood… for Jotün blood, for Thor’s blood… it did not seem to matter.

Loki wrapped all the confidence left within him and did what he always did, he lied, “To do what Father never could.  To destroy their kind forever. When he awakens, he will see the wisdom of what I’ve done.” The best lies were always told with a measure of truth.

“You can’t kill an entire race!”

Loki laughed cruelly, sunk the words like blades into his brother’s heart. “What is this newfound love for the Frost Giants?  You, who would have killed them all with your bare hands?”

“I’ve changed.”

_ Oh, how he’d changed. _  “So have I,” he said, smiling brightly before striking his brother once more.  “Fight me,” Loki hissed, demanding. He prayed to whatever gods that Thor did not recognise the pleading edge within him.  Let him hurt, let the man suck the venom from his heart. He could stand the darkness no longer, the perversion in his soul having supped and become stronger in the absence of his love.

“Is the throne really worth what you’ve done? What you’ve become?”

Thor had no idea what Loki had done.  What monstrosity lay before the god of thunder.  But, of course, Thor would think it was for the  _ crown _ .  “I never wanted the throne,” Loki cried, teeth grinding as he bit back a whine.  “I only ever wanted your love.”

Thor dropped his hands, holding them away from his body in a defenceless position.  “You have it. Even now, Loki. I have always been yours.”

“Liar!” he screamed, shoving power through Gungnir, the blast striking his brother.  He felt the echo in his own body, a backlash of pain from harming the other part of his soul.  Loki stumbled back, clutched at his chest but the voices demanded more…  _ more. _

“I will not fight you brother!”  Thor caught himself against the floor, Mjolnir still clutched in his hand turning his words into lies.

Loki launched himself at Thor, dropping Gungnir to the floor and knocking the warrior to his back.  He curled a long fingered hand into Thor’s armour as he sneered, “I’m not your brother. I never  _ was _ .”

“Loki,” Thor gasped, hands clutching at Loki’s waist in a familiar caress, “this is madness…”

The words echoed their first night and, perhaps Thor was more clever than he gave him credit for because Loki...fumbled.  “Is it?” he hissed, lifting and pushing Thor until the bastard struck his head upon the gleaming floor. “Is it?”

He swept off him, calling Gungnir back to his hand.  “Tell me, brother,” Loki growled, “what happened to you on Earth to make you  _ so soft? _  Don’t tell me…” he pretended to muse as if he did not already know the answer, “it was  _ that woman.” _

Thor’s eyes fluttered in confusion, not recognition… not fear.  Well, he would teach Thor the meaning of  _ fear _ .  The voices would help him… help him serve a greater purpose…

Loki tried to quell them.

“Perhaps, when we’re done here, I’ll pay her a little visit myself.”

“Leave Jane out of this, Loki,” Thor shouted, “she matters not.”

“She matters not?!” Loki screamed.  “And yet you’d break your vow to me?  Did I mean so little to you?” He pointed Gungnir at his brother’s face when the warrior moved to sweep in… perhaps to embrace him or, perhaps, to attack him.

“I - “ Thor cast his eyes down, guilt twisting his features.  “I betrayed you… I was… weak. I missed you, I missed home. She offered comfort and I… I allowed it for but a moment.  The second her lips touched mine I regretted it. I felt the  _ wrongness _ of it.”  A tear slipped down Thor’s cheek.  “Stop this madness, Loki and I will make whatever amends you require of me.  Take my life but spare Jotünheim!”

He did not  _ believe _ Thor.  The moment the Prince had the upper hand he would return to the Midgardian.  He would leave and shatter Loki once more. After all, no one had ever chosen  _ him. _

“No,” Loki hissed, looking out across the Bifrost, “no, Jotünheim will pay.”

“And will that satisfy the darkness in you, Loki?  Turn away from this path. Please, do not make me hurt you,” Thor begged.

“You forget, Thor, I have ever loved pain.”  Loki launched across the space, knocking Thor to the ground as he raised the spear high above his head.  He went to plunge it into his brother’s shoulder - not his heart, never his heart - Thor rolled, knocking Loki off balance.  It was easy, then, to fall into the familiar rhythm of battle. The two fighting as they had done for centuries before they began fucking.

Loki planted Gungnir before he twisted around the spear, landing both feet into Thor’s chest and knocking him down once more, but the warrior recovered, leaping at him and bearing them both to the ground.

“I love you, Loki,” he tried, hissing as Loki punched him in the face.  “Stop this. Come back to me.”

There was no room in Loki’s heart for the sweet words.  If he couldn’t bring Jotünheim low, he had nothing… no vengeance, no battle with which to prove himself to Odin, no throne, no respect and  _ Thor _ .  Thor, for all his pretty words, would abandon him… just like  _ everyone always abandoned him. _

_ ‘We will not abandon you,’ _ the voices hissed.

Loki twisted free, getting back to his feet and Thor leapt away only to swing Mjolnir in his grip and come flying toward Loki, knocking them both along the Bifrost.

It was almost pitiable… how Thor fell for his trick… again.

He revelled in cloning himself, in laughing with many voices as everyone had always laughed at him.  Well, they would laugh at Loki no longer. He would be a conqueror. He would be a  _ king. _

Rage coiled inside him, a righteous fury that had curled around his heart for years yet found purchase with Thor’s betrayal, with Laufey’s blood.  But the darkness had a voice, the madness inside him chittering… whispering…

_ Kill Thor…. _

_ Kill Thor… _

“No!” he shouted, not realising until he tried to sit up that Mjolnir was upon his chest; that he could not lift it, could not move.

Thor stumbled along the bridge, fighting the eddies of the unspooling magic as he tried to make it back to the chamber.  It was too late. Even the  _ fool _ could see it was too late.

“Look at you… the mighty Thor!” Loki taunted, the darkness  _ made _ him taunt.  “With all your strength, what good does it do you now?”

_ Kill Thor… _

_ Kill Thor… _

_ Kill Thor in His name… _

Loki pushed aside the madness as it clawed into his mind, found purchase in his thoughts, chittered and gibbered its evil like poison dripped into his ears.

Mjolnir’s weight was suddenly lifted from his chest, breath drawn easily as Thor began smashing at the bridge.

“What are you doing?!” Loki cried.  “If you destroy the Bridge you’ll never see her again!”

“She doesn’t matter!” Thor shouted.  “She has never mattered!” Over and over Mjolnir crashed into the ancient structure.  “It has only ever been you, Loki! I love you! Let all know, I do not care! I love you!”

Loki rose, summoning Gungnir to his hand as he ran down the length of the Bridge, tried to stop Thor.  Leaping - 

A wave of energy sent him flying back, falling… tumbling into the abyss.

The voices went silent.

The poison in his soul… he was free of it.  The wound that had festered so long he felt… unmade without its evil.

Thor had caught him, dangling over infinity and Thor, in turn, had been caught by Odin.

It did not take much to see the pain he’d caused, the tears gathering in Thor’s eyes, the  _ disappointment _ in Odin’s.  He’d failed… all the darkness, all the pain…

He’d struck at Jotünheim with impunity… turned a weapon to destroy a people regardless of their guilt.  Babies… he’d struck carelessly at  _ babies _ .

There was so much blood on his hands… on his  _ soul _ .

What had he done?!

“Father,” he looked up, up to the man he’d always called that with Laufey’s own blood drying on his shirt cuffs, “I - I wanted - I tried - “ He swallowed, trying to find something that didn’t sound like  _ madness _ to be spoken.  “I could have done it Father.  I could have succeeded… for you.”  Because, for all that he loathed his actions, surely there was one thing Odin Allfather, who’d claimed his own throne soaked in the blood of his enemies, could appreciate.

Odin looked at him as he always had… the lesser son.  The  _ unworthy son. _  “Loki… no…”

So, that was that.

Dangling before his own doom, his life had never been clearer.

He blinked tears from his eyes, looking into those beloved blue depths.  Wouldn’t they shine with happiness if they were free of him? Maybe Sif would give him lovely children?  Maybe the human?

Loki huffed a short, pained breath.  Knowing what had to be done… it was always leading there…

The only one who deserved death was him, the only monster mothers should tell their children about at night had lived amongst them all along.  Loki of Jotünheim. Loki… God of Lies.

“Thor,” Loki said, all artifice stripped away.

“Loki - “

_ “Heimskr vísi.” _

“Loki, no!”

Loki… let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my darlings! Please don't be angry with me for this terrible... terrible cliffhanger! I'm sooooo sorry! I promise I will fix this!
> 
> Also, I'd like to let you all know that, as currently plotted I expect this fic to be around 150,000 words so... we've got a ways to go with these two. I hope you're strapped in for the long haul because I don't write short form!


	13. Verjask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: To Protect Oneself

Loki was supposed to die.

That was his first thought upon blinking his eyes open upon a barren moon.

His second was that he didn’t hurt.

And the third… that the voices had a master... and it wasn’t him.

“You awaken,” a deep booming voice said, the echoes of power tumbling through his mind like shards of glass, “good.  I have plans for you, little prince. Take him, creature. Turn him for our purposes.”

The voices whispered,  _ ‘Master.’ _

Loki rolled to his side and vomited.

~~~

“What have you done to me?” Loki hissed as he was whisked away, suspended in a net of power and moved like one might a puppet.  “What are you?”

“I am The Other, loyal servant of Thanos… our master - “

“I serve no master,” Loki hissed.

The Other laughed a chittering sound that reminded Loki of the voices in his head.  “You have always served our master, Prince of Two Worlds. As for what was done… do you truly believe we’d allow you to kill yourself after lying in wait for  _ centuries _ ,” the creature hissed, “for you to be of use?  No, child. Your time has come and you will submit to the will of Thanos.”

Loki relaxed in the restraints murmuring quietly, dispassionately, “You would do better to kill me.  I will not serve.”

“Oh,” The Other said softly, confidently, “you will, child.  You will.”

~~~

Loki watched his blood drip to the dusty stone, listening to the patter of the sanguine liquid as The Other reported to his master.

“He resists, sire,” The Other said, voices still clawing into his head… still trying to break him with pain, with  _ torture _ .  A pity for them, he’d known too much pain to let it break him easily.

“Continue,” the booming voice - Thanos - said.  “Make sure he lives. I need him for Earth. I need him to bring them to heel.  If we show our hand too early, we give our enemies time to form against us - And, we need the Stone.”

Thanos visage disappeared from the viewer, The Other sweeping across the space to stand before him, to dig his claws into Loki’s neck.  “You will submit,” it hissed its displeasure.

Loki felt like vomiting again, dangling by his wrists and ankles attached to a floating stone had that effect on him.  He probably would have, too, if he’d eaten anything in…  _ norns _ he didn’t even know how much time had passed.  “How about a little quid pro quo?” Loki asked, grinning.

“Your tongue does you no credit, child.”

He cocked his head to the side and flashed a grin.  “Do you even  _ have _ a tongue, creature?”

The Other burrowed into his mind, dug razor blades into his consciousness until he was deafened with the sound of his own screams and, then, when he no longer had the ability to shout, he was deafened with the silence.

~~~

Loki watched as the other ate, consuming some sort of raw fish by the hank as it slithered, whole, down its gullet.

“Tell me, creature,” Loki muttered, watching his blood form little puddles beneath him.  “How long have you been in my mind?”

“Always,” it answered between one wriggling gulp and the next.  “Since you were a small boy.”

“How was it done?”

“You ask for answers,” it growled, “but you give  _ nothing _ .”

He tossed his black hair, defiant.  “I will not betray Thor.” Just speaking his name aloud sent warmth pooling through him... strength.  “I have done enough, wrought enough chaos by the machinations of your  _ voices _ .”

“Do you think,” it murmured over steepled fingers, “that none of it was you?  That you are innocent?” The Other regarded him for long moments. “You  _ do _ .  Well, allow me to disabuse you of it, Prince Loki.  I could claim no foothold if there was no darkness in you.  I could not direct your wrath into a blade if there were no forge of evil within you to hone it.  You are, as we are, ambitious… selfish… turn those skills to our master. Obey.”

“Thor,” Loki sighed to himself, recalling the image of his beloved.  There was guilt there too, guilt for all the evils he’d wrought. 

Since he’d met The Other and realised the voices in his head were not his own he could parse them, sift the wheat from the chaff and know when they were urging him, puppeting him.

“Why do you resist?” it asked as it began the pain once more.

“Thor,” he muttered.  “Thor.”

~~~

“Tell me, creature…” Loki gasped as the pain lessened as The Other began healing his body.  That would make nearly two dozen times he’d brought him to the brink of death.

“How you can still speak,” it growled, “is beyond me.”

“How long has it been?  How long have I enjoyed your tender care?”

“Too long,” it hissed.  “Our master grows impatient.”

“How long, by my reckoning?”

“Two Asgardian years.”  The Other looked at him as he healed Loki’s body.  “Nothing to say, little prince?”

“Please…” he managed, though he knew he was growing weak.  “Please, continue.”

~~~

The torture weakened him but it was the Scepter that claimed his mind.  Pressed to his chest, he felt it’s tendrils weave into his body, through his  _ seidr _ \- monstrously weakened - and into his  _ soul _ .  He felt the power of the rod twist and bend around his will and he was too weak to stop it.  Too weak to fight as it cleaved that darkness from him, twisted it, fed it, made it powerful.

Whatever evil lay in Loki rose up, became its own mind within his body and, he, weakened and abused - Loki’s true self - was shoved into a corner, severed from the control of his own flesh… made to submit.

He raged, raged with what little power was within him as his dark-self took orders from The Other, took command of the Scepter, of an army, to go to Midgard.

Midgard.

_ Thor’s Midgard. _

He had to find a way to take control again… to stop it.

~~~

Loki tried, tried to wrest control from the monstrosity puppeting his body as they claimed the SHIELD facility, as the Scepter took control of the one they called Hawkeye, of the doctor.

He was too weak, felt like a kitten clawing at a tiger.

Loki listened to the machinations of The Other and his darkness, plotting machinations of his own.

_ “Please, Thor,” _ Loki prayed from within the confines of his own mind.  _  “Stay away.” _

~~~

Loki watched as his darkness put more blood upon his hands, ended lives in that little museum in Germany.  When the old man stood against him, spoke against him, he felt the shudder of rage bleeding out from where the darkness kept itself separate, behind tall walls.

But Loki, for the first time, could see the cracks.

He launched himself at the darkness who was prepared to strike the helpless man low.  Loki didn’t even know what would happen if he clawed his way through the divide with him so weak… would he die?  Would he be consumed?

Loki didn’t care.

All he knew was he could not remain idle while the evil in him claimed something so defiant... so right.

“Look to your elder, people.  Let him be an example,” the dark-Loki said, words echoing through the hollow chamber Loki’s true-self had been imprisoned within.

_ “No!”  _ Loki screamed.  _  “Take me, instead!” _  He clawed helplessly, uselessly at the barrier.

No more blood.

_ “No more blood,” _ Loki cried.

No more innocents.

_ “No more innocents,” _ he wept.

He sagged in relief with the man in the red, white and blue showed up, protected the old man.

~~~

_ “Thor,” _ Loki whispered within his mind-chamber at the first crack of thunder.

“What’s the matter,” the Captain said mockingly, “afraid of a little lightning?”

“I’m not overly fond of what follows,” his dark-self sneered.

It was a bit of chaos, the Midgardians arguing, the back of their jet opening then, suddenly, Thor was there and crossing the bay, gripping him by the neck.

Loki’s chest - no, his  _ soul _ \- pulsed in welcome, in recognition of its mate.   _ “Kaerr,” _ Loki sighed from within the confines of his own mind.   _ “Beloved.” _

Oh, how he’d missed Thor.  How he’d  _ longed _ .

For years, as The Other tore apart his mind, his body, his only source of comfort was their memories together both old and recent.  To see his beloved face once more, twisted in its own sort of pained relief - 

Energy passed from Thor’s body into Loki, bypassing the darkness that controlled his flesh and coming to him - to his true self.  Loki felt impossibly stronger, felt the sensations of the outside words for the few moments in flight when Thor was pressed against him, holding him close.

“You live,” Thor croaked, wrecked and pained as he set Loki down on Midgardian soil.  Rough, calloused hands cupped his face, tears shining in Thor’s blue eyes.

Loki sighed into the press of Thor’s lips, melting against his body and realised, belatedly even as Thor was pulling away, that he had control of his vessel once more.  That the darkness, at Thor’s touch, had become weak and silent.

“I live,” his true-self confirmed gently, reaching out to tangle their hands together.

Thor looked him over, eyes soft and longing before Loki watched him shake himself, pull away.

_ “No!”  _ Loki screamed as he was slammed back into his little corner, as he lost control of his own flesh.  The darkness had control once more and it knew its weakness. It would not allow Thor to touch them again.

“Where is the Tesseract?” Thor asked.

The dark-Loki laughed, mocked.  “I missed you too.”  Except those words were true and, buoyed by them, Loki tried to gain control again.  It didn’t work, he was still too weak.

“Do I look to be in a gaming mood?” Thor growled, then softened, gaze dragging over Loki.  “You look unwell, brother.”

“Oh, you should thank me.  With the Bifrost gone how much dark energy did the Allfather have to muster to conjure you here?  Your precious Earth?”

“I thought you dead,” Thor rebuked.

_ “I wished to die,” _ Loki said, though none could hear him.

Rather, the darkness spoke for him, “Did you mourn?” it sneered.

“We all did.  Our father…”

_ “No!”  _ Loki shouted to the other part of him.   _ “Do not speak of this, I beg you… do not - “ _

“Your father,” dark-Loki corrected.  “He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?”

_ “No,”  _ Loki keened, shame clutching at him, strengthening the darkness and weakening his true-self.

“We were raised together, we played together, we fought together.  Do you remember none of that?”

Loki wept at Thor’s words, at the evidence of his  _ love _ .

“I remember a shadow.  Living in the shade of your  _ greatness _ ,” the darkness had a way with words, truth flayed from the bone but, why would it not?  It was, after all, a part of Loki… bourne of Loki. For all that Thanos had divided it from the good in him and made it strong, it was  _ him _ . __ “I remember you tossing me into an abyss - “

_ “He did not!” _ Loki roared, feeling madder than ever.

“I did not!” Thor echoed.  “I would have done anything to stop you… to save you!”

“Foolish prince!” his dark-self snapped, turning words of love into words of hate.

Loki, within his mind,  _ flinched. _

Thor… did not.  He cocked his head to the side as if hearing some distant song.  “You are sweating, Loki.” He reached out… went to touch but Loki’s body pulled away before Thor could embrace him.

“Midgard is more humid than I am accustomed.”

“You don’t sweat.”

Loki, if he could sense his own heart, imagined it would be thundering.  As it was, Loki-that-was-trapped-within felt an anticipation clutch him, that Thor might sense the wrongness in him… that Thor might know.

“You  _ never _ sweat.”

“Much has changed, brother.”

“Your eyes are blue,” Thor continued as if his other-self had not spoken.  Mjolnir whipped out, came to rest at Loki’s neck. “What are you, creature?  Do you ride my love’s body like a shade or are you an illusion?”

“I am Loki of Asgard,” his dark-self spat.  “My magic has grown in our time apart,  _ kaerr _ .  As has my hatred of  _ you _ .”

“So you would take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights?”

“It was  _ not _ imagined!” Loki’s gripped Thor’s armour, hauled him close enough to growl in his face.  “You have ever thought me your lesser,  _ Odinson _ , but I am not.  I am Prince of Two-Worlds and I will be King of this one.”

“The Earth,” Thor hissed back, “is under  _ my protection _ , Loki.”

Dark-Loki laughed, a hateful sound.  “And you’re doing a marvellous job with  _ that _ .  The humans slaughter each other in droves while you while away eternity on your golden throne.  I mean to rule them, and why should I not?” Loki’s body pushed Thor away, sauntering down the hill casually.

“You think yourself above them?” Thor asked.

_ “No,” _ Loki’s true-self answered,  _ “I am above no one.” _

“Well, yes,” the dark-self answered.  Maybe that part of him did believe it greater.  His arrogance had ever been his undoing.

_ “I beg of you,” _ Loki said to no one,  _ “kill this creature I have become, kaerr.  Free yourself from the burden of loving me.” _

But, of course, Thor did not hear him.  “Then you miss the truth of ruling, brother.  The throne would suit you ill.”

_ “The throne always suited me ill.” _

“I’ve seen worlds you’ve never known about!  I have grown,  _ Odinson _ , in my exile!  I have seen the true power of the Tesseract and, when I wield it - “

“Who showed you this power?”

_ “Yes!  Clever prince!” _

“Who controls the would be king?” Thor asked, voice a violent promise.

“I am a king!” the dark-Loki deflected.

“Not here!” Thor raged.  “You give up the Tesseract!  You give up this poisonous dream!”  

Thor gripped Loki’s neck and suddenly, he could breathe again. 

There were a thousand things he should have said at that moment, as energy from Thor’s  _ seidr _ infused him with power, gave him the strength to fight the beast clawing at his mind.

“You come home,” Thor managed desperately.

Loki said none of them but surged forward and clung to Thor’s shoulders, pressed his forehead into the whorls of the familiar armour.  “I don’t have it,” he muttered quickly, quietly. “I’ve sent it away. You must find it but… first… Thor….” Loki huffed as Thor remained still in shock beneath him.  “You must kill me.”

“What?!” Thor gasped, pushing him back… breaking the connection.

_ “Why can you not  _ **_obey_ ** _?” _ Loki hissed as the darkness reclaimed his body.  Loki collapsed, the illusion-of-self falling to the floor of his mind-prison.   _ “Why can’t you just end it, beloved?” _ he wept.

Loki was imprisoned in his own mind but the darkness that puppeted him was shackled outside.  It did not fill Loki with comfort because, through the cracks between their consciousnesses, Loki could hear Thanos’ will take form into machinations.

Machinations that sought to end Thor’s life.

Loki would  _ not _ allow that to happen.  

No.

No, if he could take his newfound strength and free the Hawk… yes, free the Hawk then, perhaps, the Hawk would kill him and Thor would be safe.

All that mattered was that Thor would be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I absolutely hated trying to wrangle this shit show of a movie. I feel like the whole "Loki didn't actually do this" is sort of a weak plot device so feel free to flame me. I tried to write it a bit more ambivalent than that but, honestly, Loki in Avengers seems ridiculously evil instead of the more nuanced way he is in the Thor movies and I had to explain it SOMEHOW.  
> Anyways, tell me you hate it... I'm a big girl. I can take it.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if it was confusing with two Lokis... I did my very very best.


	14. Gøra Nýr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Make Anew
> 
> Old Norse:  
> Kaerr - beloved

Loki waited, trapped in his own mind as his darkness unspooled his plot.  In order to succeed he would bring the Hawk close once more, if Loki could sever the compulsion…  How had his life become an elaborate dance culminating in his own demise?

He watched as the voices that had plagued him for centuries whispered in the ears of Earth’s champions, as they fell prey in minutes to that which took most of his life and torture to take control in him.  They squabbled, The Other unleashing its power through the sceptre and turning them against one another.  They spit venom and anger and distrust.

Loki sighed, already weary before the battle had begun.  How was he to ally himself with these children? Thor chose his friends ill.

The ship rocked.  The darkness that wore his face smiled.

It was time for him to contend with the voices that controlled his mind, he could not battle The Other for the humans.

Loki could do nothing as the darkness tricked his brother into the cell, the lunge too quick and not at the real him.

“No!” Thor shouted, passing easily through the illusion and suddenly locked within the chamber.

“Are you ever not going to fall for that?” the darkness within him mocked.  The Hawk jogged into the chamber looking beaten but still fit enough, eyes glowing an eerie blue.  He managed to suggest, to steal a measure of control from the dark-Loki, to reach out to Hawkeye and close a hand over his.

For a moment, Loki’s true self could feel Barton’s true self, locked behind the walls of  _ seidr _ and unable to fight.  The prison that held Hawk’s mind back was a thin barrier, a veneer and easily broken unlike the thick walls of his own cage.  He only had a moment but Loki extended the bit of power he’d gleaned from his brother across the gap and punched a hole in the barrier, watched as the glow faded from the Hawk’s eyes.

_ “You must kill me,” _ he insisted, pressing it into Clint Barton’s consciousness.

“I will if I can,” Barton answered, the  _ real _ Barton.

Then Loki was pulling back, roaring in rage as he struck at Hawkeye, the man defending himself with lightning-fast reflexes.  Loki was no warrior and, it seemed, the darkness that controlled him was not either. Barton managed to land several blows before Loki’s dark-self unspooled his  _ sedir _ and clobbered the Hawk with it sending him sprawling to the decking.

Loki sneered down at the body, then looked to his brother.

Thor regarded him with suspicious eyes.  “Let me go, Loki.”

“The humans think us immortal,” the darkness said.  “Shall we test that?”

Loki tried to stay his own hand, to spare his beloved but the darkness was prepared for that and Loki could find no purchase in his own flesh.

The guard that stood nearby shuddered and fell to the deck.

“Move away, please,” the human said.

Loki could feel Barton rousing at the voice, blinking his eyes open.  “Sir?”

“It’s okay, Clint.  I’m here.”

Clint sighed, still blurry from the blow of magic Loki had rendered him unconscious with.

Dark-Loki used the momentary distraction to clone himself and shift away.  Loki tried to warn them but it was of little use. His dark-self reclaimed the spear, summoning to his hand with a curl of  _ seidr _ so minimal as to be laughable.

“You like this?” the human asked Loki’s mirage.  “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer.  Even I don’t know what it does. Do you want to find out?”

Loki watched, helpless as his darkness plunged the bladed end of the spear through the human’s heart.  As Thor and Barton cried out. 

Loki felt a tremor in his soulmark, the pain of another so bound losing its mate.  

...Barton and the human were soulmates…

The thought of losing Thor made nausea well up in him.  He didn’t know  _ how _ since he was disconnected from his body, but he felt it all the same.

Loki was weak, monstrously weak and losing more every time he fought against the break in his own mind but when his body knelt over the agent, Loki could not stop from trying, from using the last little bit of his power to cast a healing spell, enough to stabilise the man.  Enough that maybe their healers could save his life.

_ “Live,” _ Loki implored, collapsing within his prison.   _ “Live a good life.” _

He did not want to die.  

He didn’t want to _leave Thor_.

He didn’t want to Thor to ever feel in truth the echo of what he’d felt standing near the agent and the Hawk as he dealt a death blow.

Loki wondered if it was too late to try and survive.

Then the man whose life he’d just saved shot him in the chest, blowing him out of the ship.  Loki was surely the amusement for some dark being. 

~~~

“Please tell me you’re going to appeal to my humanity,” dark-Loki sneered at the one they had called ‘Tony’ sauntered into the living quarters of Stark Tower.  Loki was not impressed with Midgardian decor, though the lack of gold and sanguine red was an improvement on the palace he’d grown up in.

“Actually, I have it on good authority that you don’t have any.  Or rather, what humanity there is, is locked in a little vault in your mind,” Tony said, cocking his head to the side.  “Would you like a drink?”

“Stalling me won’t change anything.”

“No, no, no!  Vaults… in heads.”  Tony gestured to his own, then made a face clearly meant to indicate insanity.  “I mean, Hawkeye I get. Needed a good little soldier and  _ phew _ did you pick a good little soldier.  And Selvig! Man is a genius. Not Tony Stark levels of genius but I wasn’t available so I get that, too.  But you’re running the show. You’re the man in charge, the big cheese. So why, I ask myself, would you have a nasty little whatever-the-fuck you did to Barton for yourself?  Then I get it… you’re just the messenger. The totally fuckable Asgardian messenger with some  _ serious _ family issues but the messenger nonetheless.  Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”

“The Chitauri are coming, nothing will change that.”

“Boy, you really stay on your talking points.  You should run for president or something. Oh, wait,” Tony laughed at his own joke pointing with the tumbler filled hand, winking and clicking his tongue in approval, “you were going for Mr Universe.”

“I do not fear you.”

“Who said anything about ‘fear’, buddy?”

Loki had to admit, watching his darkness go tete a tete with the Man of Iron  _ was _ rather amusing.  In another life perhaps they would have been friends for surely the man had a cleverness to him even if he did like to hear himself talk.

“But, why free your foot soldier?  Why save Phil? He wasn’t going to gain you anything.  Could’ve let him die like the hundreds of other people who’ve died since you got here.”

Loki winced at the reminder, felt keenly all the wasted lives.

Tony tossed back his liquor and dropped the glass to the counter.  “See, the way I figure it, ‘real’ Loki isn’t as locked down as you think he is.  I think he’s slipping the leash. I think  _ he’s _ the one who freed Clint, who cast that nifty little healing spell on Phil.”

“Have you told this to Thor?” dark-Loki asked, unamused.

_“Speak of the devil,”_ Loki murmured as he felt the oncoming edge of Thor’s _seidr_ , a pulse in his soulbond a moment before his beloved landed on the balcony and walked inside, _“and He shall appear.”_

“Loki,” Thor murmured, his eyes gleaming blue stones of powerful emotion, “my love.”

“Whoa,” Tony groaned, “‘my love’?  Is your translation thingy on the fritz?”

“Do not touch me,” dark-Loki spat, whirling away.

“Man of Iron?” Thor grunted out.

“Yep! On it! Jarvis!”

A pod flew out of the elevator, wrapping itself around Tony and forming into the suit as Loki’s darkness tried to skid around the edge of the room and make an escape before Thor could grab hold of him.

Loki was too tired to fight for control of his body, could only hope that Thor knew, that Tony had shared all he’d surmised.  He smiled in dark amusement as Iron Man tackled Loki’s body to the ground pinning him to the floor.

Outside, the portal tore itself through the sky.

“Loki,” Thor said softly, kneeling beside him.  The warrior cupped the back of his neck, thumb brushing along the verge of skin and hair.  “Let me speak to my beloved.”

“Aren’t you two brothers?”

Thor did not look away from Loki’s eyes.  “Loki is the other half of my being but we were raised as brothers, yes.”

Loki tried to take control, could feel the balm of Thor’s  _ seidr _ suffusing his mind but the darkness was prepared for it and lashed at him, struggled back desperately.  His body convulsed beneath the Man of Iron’s grip but Thor did not release him, his energy giving strength the Loki’s true self and weakening what The Other had made powerful.

“Do not let go,” Loki choked out, body lashing as the two halves of his mind warred for supremacy.

“Loki,” Thor cried out as a particularly forceful spasm sent his head crashing to the hard floor beneath, a hollow sound echoing through the room.  His brother slipped his hand beneath Loki’s head, cradling him. “I am here,  _ kaerr _ .  You must fight.”

“What,” he growled, “do you…. Ah!.... think I am…  _ norns _ … doing?!”

Thor chuckled, a low pleased sound as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Loki’s cheek.

“I’m right  _ here _ ,” Tony grumbled, helmet sliding back on the suit.  “Can we save the brotherly love for later?”

“Take,” Loki gasped, “... take the sceptre from my hand.”

Tony reached down and tugged it free, tossing it carelessly across the room.  The darkness was cut off from its source of power and Loki slammed it down, locked it away.  It could not always be such, he’d have to reintegrate the fragments of his mind but, at that moment, it would suffice.

“I have control,” he sighed, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“Great,” Tony said, flashing him a saucy grin.  “Nice to meet you, I’m Tony.”

“Loki,” he smiled back, “of - well… “

“Loki Thorsváss,” Thor provided.

He sighed, relaxing in his body for the first time in so long as Thor’s knuckles brushed along the edge of his cheek.  Having control once more, Loki could feel every ache, the weakness of prolonged starvation, of no sleep, of the endless torture The Other had clawed through him.  The dark parts of him had thought only to obey Thanos and the needs of his body had been badly forgotten.

“Can I let you go?” Tony asked.  “Gonna go Mr Hyde on us again?”

“I believe it is safe,” Loki grunted.  “Thor cannot.”

In response, his brother threaded his rough fingers through Loki’s dark strands.  “Never. Never again.”

He breathed easier without the mechanical man upon him but did not try to rise.

“The Bifrost was not your fault,” Loki murmured closing his eyes as the gentle press of Thor’s fingers against his scalp.

“Much is my - “

“As much as I agree you two need family therapy or… couples therapy.  Big giant fucking hole in the sky!”

Loki nodded weakly.  “Did the Allfather send you with chains for my capture?”

Thor sneered.  “He did. I will not - “

“You must.  Once you release me I will fall prey to the madness, it is strengthened by a magic not my own.”

“Loki,” Thor said painfully, “I will not… I  _ cannot _ put you in chains, my beloved.”

Loki hauled himself up, tackling his brother to the floor and pinning him.  He ignored the sudden whirring sound of the Man of Iron’s gauntlet preparing to strike him down.  “Would you let more die for  _ sentiment _ ?  If you love me, my heart, you will do this.  I cannot stay the violence inside me and there is no time for us to battle it together.”

One of Thor’s hands was impossibly warm against the curve of his waist, more comforting than sexual given the circumstances, the other remaining on the bit of skin at the back of his neck.  “Brother… beloved…”

“Thor…”

“Kiss me and it will be done.”

Loki gazed into his brother’s eyes as he lowered his head ignoring Tony’s muttered, “Should sign you two up for Jerry Springer.”

“Call your magic,” Thor huffed before sealing their lips together.  Loki groaned into the embrace, feeling Thor’s familiar  _ seidr _ dancing along his skin, enveloping him in that protective barrier.

He was weak but he did as he was asked, summoning the barest thread of his own power.

When their powers touched as well of energy opened up within Loki, filling him with a strength that was neither his nor Thor’s but somehow both and neither.  Before that moment he’d been an empty vessel, sails limp without wind, but at the spark of their  _ sedirs _ touching, he was overfull, brimming with energy.

His mind reintegrated, the whispers becoming part of himself once more… The Other’s spell so ancient to his being that it could not be easily untangled without sundering Loki’s own mind and… how he knew that he could not ken.

Loki pulled apart from his soulmate, ignoring Thor’s whimper.  “I am healed.. I - “ Loki breathed deeply. “I am going to release you, Thor.  And you, I. Be prepared Iron Man to smite me should I become not myself once more.”

“Sure thing, Buttercup.”

Loki did not comment on the man’s inappropriate choice of nicknames.  He palmed Thor’s face, prolonging the touch a moment more for he could not be certain he would not be dead in the next beating of his heart.  

“I love you, Thor.  I have ever loved you.  Betimes the darkness in me twisted it for its own purpose.  My jealousy - “ Loki sighed, “has caused much pain but I would have you know: my feelings for you have never wavered.”

“Nor mine for you,” Thor said firmly.  “Even for all your ills, Loki, I would walk by your side.”

Loki huffed, pained at his love’s faith in him.  “I am not worthy.”

And Loki… Loki let go.

~~~

He rose to his own feet, waiting for the evil within him to make itself known once more but there was nothing but the whispers he had known all his life and easily could be ignored.

“We good?” Tony asked, gauntlet primed to deliver what Loki hoped was a death blow.

“I am myself.”

“How’re we supposed to know that?”

Thor rose, summoning his hammer as Loki turned away from the human to face his beloved.  He was himself once more that did not mean he suddenly found himself possessed of the belief that the Man of Iron was his  _ equal _ .

“I cannot wield it,” Loki said to his beloved, “but the spear still has the ability to control the Horde.  They are of one mind, the Chitauri, and know only how to obey.”

“Then who  _ can _ wield it?”

Loki knew the answer but he did not wish to speak it.

_ “Kaerr? _  Please.  More die each moment.”

Loki sneered but said, “Your  _ seidr  _ should protect your mind while allowing you mastery.”

Tony said confidently, “Great, then the God of Thunder - “

“But if it takes control of you - “

Thor grasped his neck, pulling him close until their foreheads touched.  “It will not, beloved.”

“If it does - “

“It will not,” Thor said more firmly.

Releasing him, the blond-haired warrior strode across the room and lifted the spear from the ground.  Loki sensed and saw it eerie blue of its magic as it flooded out, seeking to control Thor’s mind for the Other… for Thanos.

As Loki predicted, it found no purchase.

Loki sighed out his relief.  “Well?”

“I sense nothing,  _ kaerr _ .”

Loki was careful when moved close to Thor and laid his hand upon his brow not to touch the spear in his brother’s grasp.  It took but a moment to glean the answers from Thor's mind, easily open to him.  “Dammit.”

“Just a minute, Cap,” Tony murmured.  “Update?”

“It cannot claim Thor’s mind, nor can he wield it.  It must be me.”

_ “Kaerr,” _ Thor growled.

“Our love drew my mind back, our connection might be able to protect my mind once more.”

“And if it does not?  I am not willing to risk you - “

“But you are willing to risk yourself?” Loki snapped, then sighed.  “There is no choice. You protect the people of this planet then I must as well.  We must be as one, beloved.” Loki reached out, offering up his bare hand.

Thor wrapped his arm bearing Mjolnir around Loki’s waist, drawing him close.

“Do not let go,” Loki commanded.

“Never,” Thor vowed, “never again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all my new subscribers! I hope you continue to enjoy this fic. Come say 'hi' in the comments, your words sustain me :)


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